I hold these thoughts as I hold onto my infested pupils my hands open like that of an infant in sleep curved fingers, innocent and unexpecting of what is to come the life the street corners the slum hearts the filthy all the ends and all the starts the loved ones who will depart the torn bed sheets and the opening of evil flowers in the dirt of small drunken conversations the murders and the beauty of the old burnt down houses the strongest agonies that derive from the simple things that once made hearts dance in the wind when love bathed in the sun with its blue veins I forget everything
to be brought back to this state I know noting of these things I look at life with innocent eyes and I feel like a child again