Simplicity of a sunny day,
air that penetrates and cleans me.
Thoughts abound on a black couch;
it’s no wonder you like poetry.

My skin will bleed when faced
with knives and guns and needles,
but words will slowly **** me,
though they are not the greatest evil.

The greatest evil lies within;
it’s these thoughts, I am Creator.
The feelings that my eyes cry out,
the truth laid out on paper.

I tried to write in happiness,
but once I start to think
emotions overcome me,
and the tears I catch to drink.