Insomnia threatens my short lines of humanity; I proceed to become amorphous,

Swallow my whole invention grab the key that twists inside my corpse,

Down to the bone, God can’t beat me, who knows how he could send me so far,

Mama dearest set my world afire calling cops and calling queens to parade at my mistakes,

Daddy, so innocent so smart so danmed brilliant, too bad he’s so dripping bland,

The moon it spread its inspection through my infections, if only the moon did more,

So I ran and I fell, underneath the white light whisking my psyche into cobwebs that cant keep up, wind is my comrade for now,

As all the stars brave the anger that dissipates into rainy days and schizophrenic ways,

So meant to be where wild flowers widen the edges of reality, skipping the weights of the ill-lit tomorrow,

Failing against a brick wall from a cure that’s been over accessed, my castle’s decinigrating multiplying germs and here it comes down, asleep in the pale palace caught by the King of imagination under siege of solidity, wrought from slaves that endanger art.

Spellbound and high Marti gras masquerade, here I come with my weapons and armor on, combating a sneering lad, how sad it is, to rip him limb from limb, how sad it’d be to rip him from the outside in, piercing his little harsh thoughts, stealing his small everything,

Saving my words to grate the dry flesh of chaps encased in my envelope of taints and tints,

Blatantly despoiling the adolescent flower, stealing what I declare must be mine to hold and share, this exotic island has been unexplored and so needs a Casanova,

So, taker (me) where do you derive from, plunder embracing your mouth, like a poison flower, scenes might hide your hate for men, but your vagrant eyes say nothing of the sort, so take from me (not me, a boy), yours truly, yours, honestly, your flower to pluck, so, why don’t you take me?

Stem of reason (where to pluck)