I do not wish to live
but my mom's illness...

There are no bite marks on his apple.
His toys are still in their boxes...

Look how those branches
of trees are nestling within...

Am I a gem wrapped in cotton balls,
or a worm, inside the flesh of an apple...

Everything is running,
seemingly towards somewhere...

The tail of a dog
diving into the water...

An unbitten apple
is the apple that is dined by its own worms...

I am the prince of your madness dreams
The one who would never lie...

Are the trees just acting out their loneliness,
their separation from the fire...

Oscillation means equilibrium
between stillness movement...

Like a little sparrow
lost in the rain...

He declaimed so loud
yet silence, was amplified...