As i lie
In my bed
I think of the
Days events
And other past items
Then i hear a tear
As if someone ripping fabric
The fabric
My personality
As it split into twob

The human mind
The human psychology
The human heart
Is ultimately
Where darkness dwells
And it well in all ove us
It takes one snap
Of the mental
Twig.
Just ask my mother

As i walk into
My brothers place
I am instantly
Hits me with gruesome
Engery,  emotions
And madness
And as I sleep
That night
I hear the moan of
The call to prayer at
The witching hour
Not at morning
When i wake up
I find that his house
Was haunted
By a madman
A madman who convert to Islam
A madman who killed himself and his family

Tonight's the night
We gather the dead
Tonight's the night
Your head comes off
The Saudi  prince cackled
As the night went on
Kashogi
Was being
Dissolved in an acid soup
Along with others
Die
At his order
Cemetery state
Cemetery nature
I am thinking he
Was the one who loved me
This Cemetery prince.

Red blood drops
The tears of the body
Clear uncolored tears are the tears of
The soul
Blood red leaves
Falling from the trees
Are the tears of the trees
Nature
And of the
Suicide victims
Them leaves have blood
Soaked into them

A babies' cry is as natural as
the mushrooms uprooting--
puhpowee--
two births into the world; life made anew.

But then there is

the rush of train tracks outside the window,
or the sound of a wolf howling at the moon,
the feeling of bare feet on dewdrops,
and watching a hawk sweep down to a lagoon

Dance the tango with me.
two left feet I am spores,
two left feet I am floating

and then I crash down,
burnt paper and burnt cigarettes,
I have a cut on my face,
I have cut tulips in a vase.

I wish I could stand in a mirror and
confront what I see
feminine physique, feminine plastique
two beady little eyes staring back at me

my eyes tell stories of deceit,
my eyes tell stories of no sleep,
when I look in the mirror I don't see me but a
bare-***** woman numb in her defeat

these suicidal lullabies in rose-colored dreams
are how I say hello to the world for I am
cruelly stuck in its'
twisted seams

one day I'll drink salt water and
float out to sea
Edna Pontellier,
I am the real tease.

The desire to die as a mysterious girl seems to be a madness though but ain't for a girl like me !