I need time away
, I need seconds to breathe,  I need crumbs to which I can count my scraps. I need poison to drink wine,
I need to feel your tight holes as I relax in my studio.
When I feel music,  I see trees.  I cut Down mountains because the babies keep crying.
If you get pregnant, my lips will turn tangerine. I have no fathers left,  just tears of pride. Seconds don't count now,  I'm all
ash