!

I'm a peaceful Goliath among angry Davids.
I walk carelessly, hands in my pockets
past pentagrams and crosses.
Past Half moons and meat altars of chakra's.

I want love.
I want it to cost nothing
but my time.
In my live stream biography,
a woman's breath will always be the soundtrack.
Even if it's only the echo I remember.

But so it goes
that each day,
as I stumble out of bed,
And put my warm feet
on the cold floor,
I find my soul
to be a swamp full of creatures
that howl their advices at me.
Over all of it, ethereal dreams
pour like amazonian showers.

There was no need for me to cry.
My eyes we moist already.
From liquor. From drugs.
From the mocking piss
that angels let down from the sky.

It's the little things that kill, you know.
a passing silhouette, with vermillion hair.
The empty echo of a number no longer available.
The thought that while you're on the other side of the world,
back home, Laura still plays the piano,
Paul still has two fingers stolen from him,
by a moment of neglect.

I revel in urban violence,
I felt my own blood flood my mouth
a thousand times.
I felt hatred and humiliation flood it,
a thousand times more.
I wanted to be driven until the end,
but There is no end to this world.
So I sleep in the backseat,
in a car without driver,
on a highway pointing to a single way:
Tomorrow.