1/
i say i don't break things so easily
i just tend to make the neat messy

we both know it's not
anything so good to be proud about
i don't because i can't
i am so weak, fragile as early glaze
one touch and i scatter to water

2/
you are the king
and i would like to be your nightingale
but i am the kind of bird
that doesn't sing
i soar high and kiss the sky
for my king has spoken
that i long to fall
and yes i do

you are the king
and even with broken crown
your people still love you
but one thing i know
there will always be
the love that soon becomes burden
i know that being loved is such a burden
you are the king not god
only god greed for love
you greed for work you farmer king
your farmland spans acres
and acres and acres
until you can't recognize it anymore
because bigger picture is always confusing
that's how i long to fall
even when i think all i long
is to tear these wings off
to fall
you say do not for i would fall just because i am learning to fly
and i believe in you
i will fly and kiss the sky
and soar so high so i can see
your farmland from above
smalling and becoming smaller and smaller --

i will take pictures for you
or write it down for you
as i always do

3/
you didn't manage to save the bird
and it died

and i said, why care; it would die anyway
i meant it for i was also a bird
i would die anyway
but i would never forget this regret
even though you said i was right

you didn't manage to save the bird
but you saved the tree and me
and we will die
but before we do
we live
and it's all thanks to you

4/
i do not worry about you, let alone too much
i worry about the me in the east wing
on the tower above the plath heart

she loves thunders but doesn't want storms
and she is lazy even to talk or breathe
but she still wants to explore the kingdom
she wants a journey to the head
not to mess, not to change a thing
only to look around
to come again
later

but the king says no,
there is not pretty and full of anger
not much beauty to find there --
does he really think that she seeks beauty?

let me remind you;
even when i do, my king,
you don't doubt my purity.

"I will die today," she whispers to me
"Well, congratulations!" I reply in glee
Her cheeks become rosy
Eyes be sparkly
Like the ones you see
in those who soon will marry; but
truer and far more pretty.
She will die today--
She will die today, really!
I am happy and
so is she, oh, so is she.

why do you seek beauty?
is it to balance that you feel ugly?

one found ugly in beauty
another found beauty in ugly

and who couldn't find anything in anything
being left out
outcasted

because you can't possibly
be so pure
you can't possibly be so pure

I want to be pure
Like the clear mirror
so clear I can see my young bones
through the weird looking tan --
I even can see my future
The youth no wise man tells
The lame middle
refuses to be named unstable
And before the time calls I would have
wrinkles, tons of wrinkles
placed on the traces of nightmares
that would never stop --

I want to be pure
Like the clear mirror
Mirror so clear I can see my future --
I can see fat blocking veins
Heart older than its age
Lungs black as Odile
Nonfunctioning kidneys and intestines;
Pores so big you can sleep in it
Nose so flat you can surf with it
Body full of moons without suns
Moon as tummy, moon as face
No longer a phase
Blind left eye, deaf left ear
Half bald head and greasy hair --
In the garden; dear hibiscus corpses
and dead green flies --
Children avoiding, screaming when
I am coming

O, the mad woman
with bad breath and obesity
The grumpy lady
loved by so many STDs

Hey
I want to be pure, purer than ever
but when I was born
when I left the ****** womb
I had passed my purest --
Can't go back, can't go back ----


Now tell me, now tell me
When I am crying, am I beautiful too?

She doesn't really want storms
It's just that she breathes dreams of storms
and what comes to her eyes,
those silly rainbows and
dead waterlilies and half-dried rivers,
makes she feel like a fat mad white rabbit
who is dancing and stamping
on you. She always knew it was you -----

Varieties of rain-clouds
Spreading like sudor glands on
her mosquito-bites covered skin
And the pores will not stop yawning
and drooling Anna Akhmatova's line
Dripping down her throat, her temples and legs; You will hear thunder and
remember me, and
think: she wanted storms.

She doesn't really want storms
It's just that she likes thunder and thinks it
as another form of sound waves her ears
used to eat a lot on Friday
and Saturday
nights.

Now it becomes faeces.
Your voice.

you were one's most favorite poem which one could never have the heart to bring to words ---

not anymore.

It is strange and I am afraid
I am afraid this is not real
I am afraid this is real

The lights so bright
I am ashamed now they see me
Skin or soul does not matter

Let it be dark
Let it be dark
So I wouldn't know what I would be killing

Be it a poisonous spider with my bare hands
Or be it my lovely goddesslike mother
Or be it the dream that never grows

Now, strip
And wither
Petals so dry they become powder

The painting-so red-flaring- it mocks me
Headless bombs
I have nothing to do with explosions

Turn off the sun it bothers me
So much
That the sun would never

Let me see its whole self
What are you hiding, sun?
Hiding is lying

to yourself
Let's say hi to the sun
I am on your back

To stab
Stab
Stab the sun it would never bleed

Because
It burns
And collapses-

What are you afraid of?

It is always the first thing
I want to ask right after the first *hi
but it is also always
the thing
I finally dare to ask
after the last
bye.

I will be dead
and become posthumously insane

and I will remember Suzanne Vega
every time I hear your name

I will take that look
of Vivienne Westwood's

and I will sing and sing and sing
and sink and sink and sink

and I will not think
of the appropriate things

Because I will be dead
and become posthumously insane

Even though long scarf does not suit this neck
and gas oven does not fit this head

and .38 caliber revolver is not
something a 17 year old girl would own

there is no need to worry
because now I know what loves me

It is not the explosion, not the oxygen
Not the carbondioxide, not the cyanide

It is the water, any kind of water
the tears, the saliva, the seawater

And I learnt from Haruki Murakami
that even a plastic bag would do

Mimicking the deepest sea
The sensation is true, is true ----

I remember; you liked a lot the word drown
You liked a lot the word drown

1/
I gave you hours
Not enough to run through veins;
So slowly absorbed-

2/
Coffee before nap
Tasted like salt o dry throat-
It is you again-

3/
I'd gulped tenderly
The you, o, bitter-salty--
Heartfelt sleepless night

4/
The dawn is coming
I can't ever erase you
I can't ever do-

You will never be free
from me

You will live forever
in me

You will be dead but
I will maintain your corpse
so well, with super great care
while waiting for Isa to
come back --

Well, the truth is
you have died
(too many times)
but you resurrect
again and again and
I don't mind you
tearing off the butterflies' wings
because they still can
walk
and tickle this fatty stomach

Whatever it is!
Even when you find hate in whatever
Do not worry, for you are Jesus
The Savior
You are God

You are Jesus!
You are God!

The Unnamed Woman's perfume
still lingers on your feet
and
I believe in you

I believe in you

"... Blessed are those who believe
without seeing me." (John 20:29)

even when I see contradictions
and injustices
even when you, when I, be
the contradictions and
the injustices --

You will never be free
from me
You will live forever
in me

Mince me
Mince me
To small pieces
Small, small, tiny pieces
From toe to head
From toe to head
From ******* toe to head
I need to know the agony
I need to know hell
I need to suffer more, more
Most
So I could write about it
So I could write about it
So I could write about it
And make hearts bleed
And make faces waterfall
And make hearts bleed
And make faces waterfall

Rain
Rain
It will rain
And your first love won't stop wearing violet

Your blue-greenish voice
Flaming red
marshmallow tongue
Long fingers
Short nails

Earlobes
Letters, letters, letters,
burning

Rain
Rain
It will rain
And the wind won't stop singing with your voice

The nape of neck
Soft lips
Warm breath
Marked skin

Fainted red
broken promises
Meaningless words

Rain
Rain
It will rain

You talk so much but say none

A Randy is not enough
so I've been gifted two.
I have two Randies.
One on my left eye,
the other on the right.

Their colors are dark brown.
So dark, so close to black
you would not be able to tell.
But I know them,
my two Randies.

They are older than me
but I was here first.
Even I knew it when
God was born.
Just like how the bible says it,
God is an
illegitimate child.
God was thrown away
by the Mother of God
and the Father of God
didn't really care about
anything.

Heaven was a warm orphanage
but then God felt so lonely
and the angels were way too boring.

God had such a hard time
practicing to create Adam.
But God was happy.
And God created Eve.
But God made them leave.

God was happy.
Not anymore.

So God created two Randies
to be put on my eyes.
God hoped that the Randies
would help me to see
what I am going to create;
would it make me happy or sad?
But God forgot
to grant me
the power of creation.

So here I am.
With two Randies on my eyes,
dark brown, so dark, so close to black
you would not be able to tell.
But I know them,
my two Randies.

They are the ones
who block my view.
I once did see but now am blind.
My two Randies.

Get them off of me.
Get them off of me.

But I am too scared
to
let them go.
They would die
when they are separated from me.
My two Randies
are God's gift.
God would be angry
if I throw away such a thoughtful gift.
God would be angry
and I am scared of it
even though I existed first.

Seniority
doesn't really work here.

You have no idea
of how poetic it is
to eat a great load of junk food
while thinking about life.
---

I once tried to
keep a healthy lifestyle ---
eat an apple a day
avoid junk food
wake up early
shower two times a day
know my limit of caffeine
go out with friends
listen to popular music
live as a teen
and other ******* ---
in case I live long.

It is raining but
I am not remembering
you, not anymore --

I knew two Randy's in my life
The first was Regina's older brother
I remembered I once saw his photograph
But first glimpse wouldn't stuck so long in my head
So I would tell you about Regina instead
She was a dancer and she cooked well
I once was in the same class as her
She used to bring her cookings to school
Healthy meals but enormously delicious
Not that I have had eaten it before;
I am just exaggerating --

Her parents wanted her to be a doctor
But she didn't know what she wanted to be
So let's forget it because
I, too, don't really care about her

Her name reminded me of another Regina
We were strangely quite close on Junior High
This Regina had cute teeth and pretty eyes
And her laugh made me happy
She was the leader of Journalistic Club
And I regretted I had not joined the club
Not because of her, but
Because I remembered that later on Senior High
I wanted to be a journalist --
Not anymore

The second Randy was an actor
I watched a play and found him
So mesmerizing, his presence was so consuming
His acting felt so real or perhaps it was
He was afraid of death, so afraid
Even though it was because of his own doings
He was the one who betrayed himself and the world
He was the one who did it all
He shouldn't be afraid of such hatred
Because he was the hatred
He was the hatred

Then off stage
I saw his mother and how proud she was
To see her son had played so well
She didn't know what was
Really happening
She was going to be betrayed by her own son
And her son wouldn't be able
To escape that fate
Being the hatred
Being the hatred ----


I knew two Randy's in my life
The first was Regina's older brother
And the second was the hatred who played actor
And I don't think I want to know more;
There were enough Randy's already --

I am a bible!
I haven't thought about it
But God had said so ---

I didn't know it is really possible
To laugh and cry at the same time
Without an exact cause

I think I am insane
But he told me I am not
But he didn't really know what
We were talking about

It was about me and me and me
How many me's?
I will count it later like the stars not the stairs
Fail and fail oh I can't even turn the lights on

The water tastes funny
The world is so funny today
Today is the right day to
**** all the catcallers in the universe or
Just ask God to dance something
(Don't you think that Heaven has its own traditional dance too?)
Or we can watch a grand, glorious
Dance battle
Between Michael and Lucifer
Then watch Maria and Joseph slow dance;
It would be fun
Trust me
And the best of all
We won't run out of good wine
(Yo, Jesus!)

Oh, I can't believe you!
Why don't you laugh?
I can't believe you are
Not laughing
You don't even cry! How boring;
How boring --
The heaven would get mad
So mad, so mad like Sylvia
Or Khadīja or Rebekah
Or don't ask me who they are!
Do you even really know who you are?

I think I am insane
There was a time when I am
Really sure that I am, but
Then I learnt that truth was not that simple --

He said, just like him, I think too much

What do I think?
I think I am insane
But he told me I am not
But he didn't really know what
We were talking about

Tris

Unconsciously
The name
That
Tris


Let me remember you
At times I don't want to the most


Clearly
The blurry image of
Parking lot
Motorcycles and cigarettes
Dim light
I saw a star or two or three or
Four


Let me remember you
At times I don't want to the most


Poetry reading
The emotions, the voice, oh, tempo
The tap of the right foot
The wide smile that supposed to hurt
Disability in the arts
Cry it out! Cry it out!

She cried on the train
And had an old man told her
It will be okay
O, how jealous I am

I had to wander on the blurry forest
Of motorcycles and cigarettes
With dim light and foreign faces
I couldn't not care about how I looked
But
Blank mind --- Hollowed self ---
I have had the soul fly to search for you
A minute was enough and a part of me died
She saw the tears and the halved smile
And she completed it
With or without
What could it do for good?


Let me remember you
At times I don't want to the most


Do you remember that song?
You said it was my favorite which
I couldn't sleep without listening to it ---

That evening I wanted to
Be in your eyes


And this theatrical pain
Is killing me
Slaughtering me like a goat


O, those special effects! Brava!

You died in the middle of the sentence
O, slashing sound, how refreshing!
O, ocean breeze, I can feel the salt
filling the pores of my scratched skin
How adorable is the blue, blue, blue
O, when you fly and fly and the blue turns into emptiness ---
The outer space, my dear! So black;
So black no sky could squeak through
You died before you'd seen the stars!
-----

Smashed soul and come back to Mama
The womb is no longer your place
But you can decorate it all the way you'd like!
What is mine is yours, except
for the pain and wounds --- But you
can collect the scars like butterflies or the postage stamps or -- what is it again?
What is it again?
What is mine is yours, my dear,
come back home to Mama

The warm soup is now cold
I'll add the ice for you if you want it colder
I'll add my heart to it if you want it coldest
What is freezing but not frozen?
What is it? What is it again?
What is mine is yours, my dear,
come back home to Mama

Your loud breath
Cold hands
White eyes
Unseen groping
Peeling skin

The gold walls
Booming ticks
Volcano heart
Unnamed quakes
Crumbled skull

It is the song of the lost children. At night they come to your sleep. They can love you till you bleed. Just wait for it. You call them nightmares, horrible dreams, but you are their sweet one.

You are their bedtime story. Every single night. The same story being told over and over again. The exact same words. The exact same you. Keep being repeated. On their starry eyes at day. On their twinkling lips at night. On their meals and toilets.

You are their sweet dreams. That's why tooth fairy hates you.

Your loud breath
Cold hands
White eyes
Unseen groping
Peeling skin

It is the song of the lost children. At night they come to your sleep. You wake up yet they come again. They have always wanted to love you till you bleed.

The gold walls
Booming ticks
Volcano heart
Unnamed quakes
Crumbled skull

When you were six. They were the evil mothers crawling under the sofas. They made the air shift, softly whispered to your feet. They were the ones who made the screams.

Your loud breath
Cold hands
White eyes

When you were eleven. They were the gigantic spiders appeared from the toilet hole. They were the ones who ate your dad but didn't swallow that curly black hair of his.

Unseen groping
Peeling skin
The gold walls

When you were seventeen. They were the train wreck. They made your dad has to stop the car. It was too dangerous to move. Another crash was coming. And they were the ones who made your dad step on the wrong pedal.

Booming ticks
Volcano heart
Unnamed quakes

It is the song of the lost children. At night they come to your sleep. At day they are the invisible shackles around your ankles.

Crumbled skull
Crumbled skull
Your loud breath

Oh, I am sorry. It seems that the song doesn't really have an

Cold hands
White eyes
White eyes*

end ----

The blue is getting smaller
And the moon
Can no longer be pointed at
All I see
Is your finger
Fading with the air
And the flesh
Is all eaten by time
It shall fail
Along with the heart
As the bones
Composing weird music
But candy
To the ears
And the eyes
Can no longer see
And the mortal
Life shall cease
And the eternity
Can no longer be
Denied

For I once did see
Now I am blind
For I once was found
Now I am lost
O, how sweet the sound!
How precious did the grace appear
How precious did the grace appear
How precious did the grace appear

I am so young
Yet so strong
Strongly salty
Like the seawater
Strongly lazy
Like the wind

I am dull
As a knife I don't have worth
Even pen can stab but I cannot
I am the seawater; I am the wind
I don't need to explain my worth to you

Every morning I wake up with poetry
On the tip of my tongue
On every clip of my nail
My fallen hair
The dead cells on my bed
My greasy face

I open my eyes with poetry
This heart beats in poetry
These erythrocytes carry poetry
I breathe poetry
I live in poetry
I do not need words
Not all poetries are words
And that's enough

I want to forget breathing
Let the carbon dioxide take over my body
The lungs would be happy
The heart would rest calmly
It's so quiet here
There is a party in the brain
Celebrating the win over wars

They praise you a lot
The God of War

The rivers would stop
No one needs time anymore
Blood and heads and blades

They praise you a lot

The God of War
You won't let peace become

Oh, you!

Whose God am I fighting?
You are not mine anymore
The temples have fallen
No statues, not even one

Dust
The God of War
You are now dust and I am wind
You are no more
You are no more

The rain is dead
You can't be helped

You were praised a lot, oh, you!
The God of War

Whose God am I fighting?
You are no more

The wind doesn't breathe
I have come to forget breathing
It's so quiet here!
I am the wind, oh, you, dust!
Dust, The God of War is now dust
You are no more-

*Celebrating the win over wars
I would never win over you

My dear Mars
My God of War

Slice the apple
Billion apples
And billion others

They are getting brown
Why don't you eat it?

You are busy
Slicing
Carving red-brownish swans

Stop it
Snow White does not exist
Apples are not needed

The nonexistent seven dwarfs
A dream of a black Cadillac
An eternal long march
Inaudible Amazing Grace

Two billion apple swans
Turning brown and more brown
They frown

At you
Why don't you eat it?

Genie wanders
Another lamp breaks
Then another
Then another

Genie wants dark
Genie longs pitch black
The street widens
No one sees walls

Genie smiles
Kills the clock
Genie's time's grave
Genie smiles

Genie doesn't blink
Genie doesn't breathe
Genie is a cat
Dies and dies and dies

And dies and dies
And dies and dies and dies;
Genie saves the best
For last

Another carrot on the plate
Mommy's going to be
Mad!
But Genie is a cat

Genie only eats meat
Genie can't be fooled
Genie is smart
Genie breaks another lamp

I want to erase you
along with myself

So when the question
hits again

Where are you?

I wouldn't be able
to answer

Your pretty long hair
and splat of red on your right
cheek
You were God once;
Now you can't be tamed

You prudently hid your neck
to prevent jealousy ---
You danced wilder,
wilder than her; that Isadora
But no mother lets her daughter
stand so lonely
wild so uncontrollably

The long, long scarf
Keeps making legendary
blue and red and black
and black;
And black and back to blue
again
and red and black ---
The show
went on;
It still goes on.

Let's ring like a siren
Higher octave than ever
We are going to fight the fire or
bringing the dead all over the town
It's just the same
Let's celebrate

We are going to
puncture some tympanic membranes
until all bleed and the sound
is merely just a slight touch
they can't ever recognize
So tell the young girl
not to sell earplugs today
Today is just not right
Today is an umbrella day
for there will be tears everywhere
of parents
of children
of strangers

What we won't tell
Today will be
a flood day
And those who can't swim
must know how to drown
Because merely floating
is an act of disgrace

So let's ring like a siren
So let's celebrate
For the burned and the dead
For the loss and the grief
For the unheard sounds and voices

Today will be
Our day

So there was a time when I felt so calm I couldn't hear anything but the sound of God working. Even the angels didn't make any sound. It was so divine and the holiness melted me down along with my bed and my blanket.

Right before I closed my eyes, I saw the sun and the moon smiling to each other. It made a gentle thunder and if I could hear it, I believed it would be the sweetest music I would ever hear and I would put it on a music box so that later you could hear it too. But, trust me, (I knew that) you must hear it live. It's a must. It was so grand, (I knew) it was like a greatly underrated orchestra held in a excessively busy, ****** town.

You know, I was already half asleep when I knew the little mice were there. Their tiny legs tickled but I didn't want to move. And then I felt a cold circle pressed against my stomach. Ah. A metal bowl trapped them. It was heated later so the mice would soon panic. They struggled to run like crazy as they panicked, panicked so much they were starting to dig in my stomach. It was too hectic I couldn't even dream of you. And then they dug deeper, deeper, and deeper, but they were moving slower and slower as the guilt they felt growing bigger and bigger.

And here comes the most important part of all. If you read this, please, please tell them what I thought at the moment. I had repeated it on my mind for several times, hoped that the mice would understand, but in the worst case, please:

(Ahem.)

I know, my little friends. I know how you feel. I will let you escape. It's okay. Go on. Go ruin me and be free.

And let them know, please let them know that if I could, I would still go thinking the same as ever.

I'm gonna puke
on the mirror
or on the street puddle
or if I could, on my own frigging eyes.

All that reflects.
I'm gonna puke
on the atmosphere
or on the clear window
or if I could, on my own foul heart.

Why isn't it raining hard?
The clouds
aren't afraid of me?
On them I'm also gonna puke.

ii.

It was a promise;
Not to leave
before you arrive.

I believed.
You didn't.

It wasn't a longing.
If it was, I could
just **** it in a blink.

I waited 'til late;
You overslept.

Why does
fire burn?
What else
does burn?
I'm running out
of---
Let's just put
our heads on.

I got a smile from a guillotine.
It tasted a bit sour but mostly sweet;
A lemon flavored cotton candy ---

Should I say hi or go away?

Cute guillotine at a cute play park;
Why do I have to meet you at this time?
You call it moment, my dear, a destiny ---

So let's go to another vehicle or
let's kiss and become another spectacle or
let's just keep romanticizing each other ----

*O, my dove, my lovely rose;
My dear guillotine! This neck is waiting.

Poetry is a joke
thrown to a cold and stale, small audience
in a theater with filthy curtains
and fishy red seats

No one knows that they are
supposed to laugh

No one cries
Neither one chatters
No one blinks nor sees
They are all silent and blind and dead and
We keep telling jokes they would never hear
*Over and over and over again

Because you'd stayed for a while
Because you'd made my head your favorite place
A library, or a cave, you'd said

The idea of you had completed me
But there's no such thing as a complete library so
I am no longer your favorite

And a cave, I made my head a cave
For you to live in but
You aren't a caveman

Clock ticks
Ink fades

Head heats
(Burning coals pillow)

I wish I could
make you up inside my head

You vanish
(I can't leave this cave)

Magnificent dragon
Its fire burns from within
Black, so black
Threatening smell spreads on the ground

Hidden and cool
Breathe so calm
A one, a two, a three
I have became another statue

But I am only human
Brash heart should beat more
I should sweat more, wet and flood
Let it be, let the dragon know I fear it

I wrote you letters
Only to burn it later
Then write hundreds more

You
forgot to take your mother's kitten out of the oven.
She smiles on a trance
like Avalokiteśvara in a lotus
reeks of God, a melting honeycomb.
Bake me some pottery, would
you? But the clay
has grown so much its pants no,
no longer fit.

The dove faked a laugh
and Noah would clap.
Clap and clap and clap.
He told Emzara to leave him
and only him and only him
and only him
alone, for Chronos had put a chaos
on Themselves, and, and
Delilah would cry in joy when the pillars collapsed
along with her soul, along with her soul.

But you chose to pray to another
whom is not the arrow nor a lampshade on a hotel room,
whom is not a sun nor a xylophone nor the title of your favorite song nor the bricks you'd
tied on your
waist.

The stars' greetings unanswered, unanswered, unanswered.
O, dear, o my dear sky whom is polluted!
Cataract on the moon, moon that hollows air as, as I lose the setting sun that is
you.

Little by little
Quietly let the explosives out of her head
But what erected the stone
Wasn't an explosion

She wanted red cheeks
Instead of roses or lips
Pinkish breath
Instead of pale, white pills

Raisin brain
Pulled out nails, polished
Teenagers are so sweet

Left eye, right eye
Lend her some
To play, to play, to play

I knew when the sun went through your body. Tangled veins all over your yellowish bones. Your flesh were a three colored ribbon; blue, green, and purple. You seemed a lot like a garden where you'd used to hide some of your bruises. You always told me that there was no treasure box shimmering like your sweat and blood drips but oh how poor, how poor of you that you've never had seen the glimmer on your tender eyes that was a sleeping, sound blue star. Now you know why I didn't believe it when you said you were born from the womb of a tree. You lied as much as you coughed. I didn't like it. But the syllables your tongue had made were tender and the intangible comfort I'd felt made me forgot to complain. I knew it when you said you were a karst and I was the river you kept so dearly like the teddy bear you wouldn't let anyone to touch. I never had seen if you had a teddy bear but only for that one, I believed you. I still do.

On Wednesdays we used to burn books together. You knew I loved the way they became ashes so sometimes you'd let me too. But how would I forgive you, oh you? On that one Thursday I wished it were me who'd turned into the pages. And I still do oh I still do.

1/
Why didn't you order chinese tea
like we usually had

or break the glass and plate
just to see the waitress bend?

2/
We let the boat, corroded,
taking us to the middle of sea

and though it was raining hard
your tears were the only I did see.

3/
You stood like a tree,
breathed thunder.

We're each other's fire
and that's how I believe in forever.

Lucky germs on your shoe
I must love them too

God died right after had given her
The power of creation

Who is she to talk Friedrich
Like her blue premature infant?

I liked the color blue but it is
The color of forget-me-nots

Who am I to talk flower
Like my growing hair down under?

"What are humans?
Why am I different?"

Who is God to ask?
The talking doll now is God

No, no different than
The sky nor the ocean

God is a rolling title
Like a dough, like eyeballs

Who is it to talk breadcrumbs?
The birds aren't like that anymore

I sat on the table
Flipped

No, no different than a shared diary --- Then
Lou Gehrig should be happy

If I ever talk to the cloud again
and ask where my kite went ---

But the cloud would not speak
for it has no tongue nor teeth

Maybe my kite heard the wind singing
Or the sweet, sweet voice of Siren luring

Sun floats still
Couldn't run away

Sun stole, stole
Stole my kite away

If I ever talk to Ra again ---
I had no time explaining

Such sensitive teeth my kite has
Don't let it bite the Siren's voice

Sweet, sweet haze
Blinding

Sun floats still
Earth on routine

What did my kite say
when it reached your core?

It reached your core,
didn't it? It reached your core,
didn't it? It reached y--

Tell me what my kite said,
would you?

1.
Earrings pierced on my skin. Hand me some pain, it does not hurt like I wished.

2.
I'm breaking my bones for your brother to toy with. How could I be hurt?

3.
Appearance of that krankenschwester makes us, the children, run real fast.

4.
We are holding a camp! I brought the meals but the milk has expired.

5.
Have you ever heard the story of The Blue Beard? Do it. Stain the key.

6.
I am waiting at the Night. Evening is not that bad, I promise.

7.
The twelve swans and you. I wish it were a ballet. Now, what do you wish?

I didn't mean to chill the tea
But heat always flows spontaneously from hotter to colder bodies, and
never the reverse

Sorry I copied that
from Wikipedia

I never liked chilled tea
let alone the iced
one. Then
at two I remember you.
The cafe's
bankrupted.

Naturally, three wishes would always be
divided by zero
Genie was meant to be
a hero. Genie was meant to be
a hero. Genie was meant t---

Back then on March
Four fears
I thought I would see you
(I didn't cry at the parking lot)
From five to six p.m.
seven people had waited
for me to stop the weep
(It was the second box from the left
on a women's bathroom, if you want to know)

I am burning all the books
along with the old letters
along with your new lover

*And the language obscene

I am a red poult
Fell from a height

I don't know how to fly
I don't know how to survive

Eaten alive by group of ants
I don't know it's called dying

It's ended by a girl's pity
That pretty red shoe stomped me to death