Bloody, plum colored
digits...

I've inhaled the scent of lilac and turquoise...
and exhaled the joy with the texture of paint...

Excuse
after lie...

Perhaps someday
we'll remember...

I smell it in your expression,
I taste it in your body language...

You pleaded for my vulnerability
to see my pain...

Saddened eyes,
cigarette...

Anything -
I don't want to feel...

Rest in peace,
your blood on the street...

The movements around me are thickly pouring syrup,
molasses...

I'm a balloon,
taped to an oxygen tank...

I still feel like a child.
Maybe the universe isn’t so cruel...