Memnoch,
My Devil,
I don't know what to do.

You speak of lies,
You speak of life,
And I know you speak of truths.

I am an unhealthy person.
I have an unhealthy mind.
It searches for ways to cope with things,
Ways I know you wouldn't find.
It thinks of needles, lighters and blisters,
Of bite marks and bruises and hating my sister.
It thinks of benches and doorsteps and two **** soft beds,
It thinks of that kitchen, that grass hill and when the moon turned red.

I have an unhealthy person.
I am an unhealthy mind.
Together I make a combination
Of the likes you would never find.

And I don't know what to do.

A Great Dane named Matilda.
That's what I wanted.
You wanted children.
You want to be a veterinary doctor.
I want to be a chemist.

Your birth mother was gorgeous.
I'm sorry about her.
I'm sorry for everything.

I don't know why you take this time
I don't like it one bit,
I try to act like I don't care
Like I don't give a ****,

But I can't help myself
I care too much to fake,
I want your company with me
I don't like this new ache.

This new study says
That therapods like
Tyranosaurus Rex
Made hissing,
Booming sounds
Like cassowaries
And emus.

They are right
As I see it.

They were not monsters.
Only pre-birds.

There's a fallen tree
67 degrees in angle
It rests on that arch.

Amongst these ruins
I feels safest of all.


No man or bad will
Can harm me here.

I am with nature.