Butterflies, butterflies
here and there...

"God is dead "*
That’s why we are here so tragically lonely...

“They smell your mouth lest you dared to tell...
In perpetuum they flip...

Our death is intended
Unless we prove otherwise...

I am
like a buried faithful seed...

Looking for a poetical moments I searched...
but I have found nothing...

Why
when we grow fangs...

Look how the moth swapped
its withered yellow wings with...

The audience adored him...

I shall be forever unrecognized.
I shall forever be...

To my bloom:
I would love to dip my nose forever in your petals...

I am lonely
I am so lonely...