I see Sylvia like she’s here to console me
“Ariel, it’s gonna be alright”.
‘Death Note’ and undiscovered phantoms
Under a black cross, gothic chains.
The plants look dead but I have to water them, when they wither, I’ll get the blame.
Julia is silent - the headless woman…
I wonder if Caesar has hung her clothes on her.
This balcony is a world stage
Where I fight the urge to smoke,
Drain the dregs of these century old bottles
And I listen to the crowd of flat mates,
Neighbours, strangers… it doesn’t seem too loud anymore.