Listen to the trees, listen to the flowers
Listen to the wind, listen to the stars too
Listen to the things your eyes won’t tell you.
Ouroboros OphisAt the end is where I beginsinging a song of recreation and deathwhile the flowers wither under the veiled moonat dawn another budding shall bloom
troubled, troubledlet me light a cigarettethe smoke smells like a leaderand now troubles follow
thoughts can be healthy or unhealthythe bad ones are like parasitesthey manifests and feeds on the hostuntil the host’s brain self-destruct
another late night accompanied by coffee. in the bitterness, i find myself.
Late night nn
my love, you closed your eyes
and I became a thought
when you open your eyes
I will evaporate.
through each beloved strokes, layer after layer
the endless aching passion inside me greets me and sets me free..
one week of cutting, layering, shaving, drawing.. and I’m finally holding my heart in my hand, proud and happy.
Maybe someone can give me a purple bear as a gift?
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