Professional manipulator
Of niave, vulnerable souls of...
On that October eve,
I was like a gazelle...
Your silence
is killing tiny...
a mahogany desk houses the letter you sent
a year ago, sleeping under a blanket of dust...
Mirrors shy away when I look at me
I think in me one could never...
Blurry is what I see
in front of me...
It's suddenly the middle of summer.
Winter has crawled out of my attic...
I opened the curtains of tomorrow
and saw the shimmering, gleaming rays of the...
the flashbacks assault your body like
hailstorms on fragile glass...
Anything ephemeral
in its burn...
Inside of this huge mug I call my world
I am the size of a small bug...
No, no, no...
I went left then fled as if I were I bird...