The petals fall,
strumming the thin skin of the drum...

A timid dragon
Shuffles out to greet the knight...

I do not live
And if I did...

What is love if not pain?
The stars taste just like knives...

I'm quite good at destruction
When the target is myself...

And maybe there is magic
In the little things...

The sun is squeezed from the sky
And I watch the sky pour...

I gather the stars in a basket
And bask in the flickering light...

She drowns dreams in a soapy bathtub
Breathe the suds in deep...

Death tastes sweet.
Sugar coated lies...

If I am all the things I love,
Then I am you and none of me...

The urge to lie face down in a bathtub
Bubbles drifting past my ears...