And I'm mostly jealous of his skin...or how well it captures the light
from her bedroom lamp,
sitting idol thumbed on her
winter sheets. Birch burnt wood with copy toner
spilt from a misplaced backwards grasp
towards the mantel, on a white shirt
and on a white gown now slightly soot-stained.
I can't get the image out of my head, two women
fighting one for me and one just because of jealousy.

Here I am, prone to bursts of emotion and ferociously
tempered fits, set to Bach's Cello Suite #1 in G.
Wish I were Catholic, bunkered down in acrid choirs/
maybe them boys knew at the time, their religions were
setting them up for a life lacking artistic drought.

Parents never cared, set up for Hanukkah once, never
went through after my parents found out that
all the oil in my teenage body was enough to lit 40 of those

slept tintly with the shades of other britches, laughed quietly
after I found out her loving heart is bursting stitches from
quote unquote loneliness. I've never had that problem,
spent my virginity on never feeling that way again, and now
a month after seeing the girl that waited two years to spent it on me,
I'm maybe feeling something, along the lines of regret, but
maybe I'm just not that into it anymore...maybe my body and my mind
left me alone in a place wallowing in a lack of empathy for these
quote unquote people. I've always asked for more, and when
not in a wrapped box, handed to me, I seem to loose interest and
that's what is happening. My presents are being sorted and tossed
arbitrarily over eight or nine days, and I'm loosing interest in her,
in this game, in these loose women/
kind of like that Hanukkah thing.
Makes my song I just posted about religion look like ****.

Really good though.
A Celebration For The Death Of Man...

Quote by Madison Perella

Thats not even sensible I base myself like this I like power I don't understand emotion. Knowledge is key and fire pokemon own.

Man, I need to buy your book.
Today I feel electric grey
I hope tomorrow, neon black