"The sleeves were laced with neon blue

adorned with gems, the precious ones

more inside than out,

It hadn't say much about them

but 'it's not an issue, of my hems'".


'I hate the guts of their whole being and them all being,

over all like the whole world is all theirs,

like the sky above is light, a blinding bright,

sometimes yellow, sometimes white

and sudden nights are long and dark and happen very often

"they never do anything but walk in,"

like standing up is too hard.'


know being upside down is really something, first

then look up sometimes, look around you, rise

who's to say it's by the speed or the carriage,

if it was measured by audacity I'd dare it...


I'm just looking at this point to justify it,

not deny it, but combine it with some violence

add some nuance, to the silence

make the most out of the darkest nights to fight it.