I used to admire Van Gogh for how lovely he could make simple sunflowers look,
But then I saw you,
and I wonder how jealous Van Gogh would be of your beauty.

I could destroy the whole and blow the ashes on your face while we look at the stars.
I could pick up every broken piece and throw it back to you to remind of us.
I could call the executioner and tell him to knock your guts out.
I could set fire to a forest but you'd sing as the leaves disappeared.
I could drown our love in River Styx and maybe it would come back stronger.
You make me whimper with pain
so now I join the broken pieces of the universe forming your name.