Your father owns cigarette and mother has the fire, you are the smoke from destruction, which devil finds amazing and calls art, while licking his wolf paws since his lamb costume is in bathroom.
The boy you loved is a pipeline with grief moving in circles and your loneliness finds a Siamese twin in it, so you two decide to make poems about anything and everything, until he gets bored and you get shooed.
Your nails are outgrowing the basic symmetry and you wish to cut it so that your god can thrift it to crucify his next target who finds another form of water to defy scientific rules and calculations.
Human anatomy disgusts you, may be because you never wanted to be a human, but a lifeless thing without tongue, but then on scrutiny you are a lifeless thing with tongue and so you are supposed to speak and also not to speak, because only the time can point out the correct pronunciation.
Religion is the leash with teeth attached to your collar, with a monologue soaked in a adulterer's blood, which relapses in the third night of fourth month while you are preparing to find warmth in a grave.
You don't want to build a ship even if there is a prior warning, because you want to prove rocks shape the water and its not the other way around,even though you are the last pigeon who refuses to come back, not someone's favorite.
Your thesis is actually a scheme of luring scraps of people into the cave of Plato, because they stand as a locust plague eating away colonies of ants who were once oppressors and owners.
Your throat is a flickering bulb with hope, a bastard kid you are trying to abort with little pink pills, and all other metaphors which actually lack beauty.

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