You are moving too fast
With that little poem
Guerilla warfare
In the depths of your dark – green eyes
Emeralds
But she wants diamonds
Like always
Maybe she even could stoop so low and
accept the fake ones
It’s all so trite
These women
What do I need it for?
Devil knows
Like if it was not enough
Eating strawberries
On a Saturday morning.
I cannot solve the puzzle of my soul
Maybe I am an infinite emptiness
Maybe I am just a boring entity
Without a goal and motor
The feeling have left me
After the storm
What is there to pursue
Decorating the home?
I was hungry so I have eaten
Now
I want to dance a little
Its all in pieces
Its just existence
Mundanity
Oh insanity
You are a blessing
You give a meaning to this disconnected pleasant normality
What is there underneath
Don’t ask your mother
She won’t say anything
How is she not bored with this mundane eternity
—————————————
My grandma was a little bit possessed by the aristocratic madness
Love is a mistake
You lose your resolve, woman
He is not a god, and you are not a bird
You will go straight to well with your nirvana
They don’t want it
They like concrete
I really need to get myself some piano
Oh, Sappho and romantics
Stop strangling me in the sleep
Incubus
You dreamers
All your opium love spelled dreams
Are suffocating
Killing babies in their sleep at night for their selfish lovers
I started thinking that ‘love’ is evil
vengeful
it’s hate
it’s murderous
so I’ll forget this whole business
and go
to meet
Karakoram mountains instead
or something like that
for a while
before I get back to dreadful London
to deal with all this deathly business
of
flowers
Embryos are smaller than fetuses
fetuses are smaller than children
children are smaller than women
women are smaller than men
men are smaller than atomic bombs
according to this logic
atomic bombs are right.
antiinsanityblog 