There is something I'm wont to say
I feel it resting in the frigid sound
Tarnished body is my human mess,

A solitary kingdom, for a Pyrrhic son

Isn't hard to tell, that love's wasting breath has found me.

One brush with death, to another.
Til' he's angry enough to fight.


There is no why I did it because it was beautiful, it feels good.
I need more moments like these.
Into the depths, my only concern is apparition,

A predestined repetition, all through to the end.

This horrid sun-stained flesh bears itself

A screen to projections of the world.
And arms, eyes, and breasts are branches
And growth of my own cold detachment.


You now is the only condition of you're having ever been born,
into the world, a celestial target.

We shower together but are never clean.

Failure.

That's enough.