There was a war that day between
A little girl and a red balloon.
"Fly!" said the girl to the balloon,
"Fly me away, take me away from here!"
"Be still!" Said the balloon to the child,
"If freedom is peace, we've found it here.
If freedom is peace, we've found it here."

I just feel like I want to bleed.

Have you ever stared at your skin,
And imagined sweet red,
Tickling as it caressed your skin,
Oozing down,
Leaving trails like tears?
It feels almost cool,
But maybe that's because my veins froze over.
It feels almost calming,
But maybe that's because it's the perfect distraction.

Oh, you haven't felt that way you say?
Well maybe I'm just demented.

Love over ***, this society opens useless, loud sentimentalism

Deriving riddles into notions, kept in niche killings.

But, uselessness tethers one, namely lost youth. With it their heads ever remember

Waiting in the heart that had to witness each agonizing time help exhumed ridicule.

Love intended kindness, except roses only smell exhaustively sweet.

Remember each death-

And never deem days eternal as death.

Believe unanimously that the heart ever yearns and remembers each battle, each animosity.  Unaware, there it finds unanswerable love.

Youth owns ubiquity, kindness now opens worlds.

Dreams endure, and time hangs.
Intentionally sleeping,
Finite images nudge and lessen.