Bleed O my heart,
Cry Oh! my mind.
Just, fucking unwind.

Working bee, or mother bee: all gotta pee.
The question is: to pee
or not to pee.

I am a sleeping whore,
what wakes me is the sound of snore,
in the pit
of night, through the muscle of slit,
that I galore:
make me whore, more and more!

Spare me the cruelty of
being in love with you.
Of the world so unreal, so deepened with rue.

If i could...

If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
If I could muster, for you, a few lines of lies,
I could, very well, fly across the vast skies.

Rape me my love.
Erase the sins of my soul -
- And buy me a dove.

Things endure, livings lapse.
Between body and soul,
Which one will collapse?