A shattered skull,
Cranium or cranberry,
Has a red inner flavor.
This is called the right kind of viscera.
Open me and unfold,
My entire offal.
The bleeding obliterates a river,
When itself becomes a flood.
So does the red taint the blue.
Thus I brought this view.
Invisible waves,
Caused by heat,
Show the essence of the sun and burn its miserable surroundings.
All my meaningless destruction and radioactive creation come in peace.
A tip of my tooth,
A slightly carrot-wise hue,
Orange massacre.
Around three in the morning,
Dusky dawn and dark green hue.
The sky was divided in two by striking thunder,
As the humming wind serves a reminder.
An awakening bell.
I sew my ideals into my skull,
Through the pierced hole;
My wishes were thrown.
And I melted my shield,
Transformed by cold,
A shiny sword to wield.
A battle of will,
Smothered by the battle for kills.
Existing brawls,
Simply shattered.
Farces are built and rebuilt.
Just like wind,
It blows away.
It drifts apart then forms back,
A misty presence of emotion.
It spreads through a skull,
To another skull and brain.
It is my hermit,
Secretive ambition,
Hidden in the air.
Ambient love,
Overburdened trauma.
Wish you happy,
And wish we met.
You heard their discussion?
It is pertaining to,
The smartest person on the world.
And who would that be?
They say the score is a number,
And a number is a form of quantification.
People with the most number,
Does not mean anything actually.
And you solve it fast and slow;
Questions are bumming out and low.
Just so you know,
I do not know.
It blooms like January fire.
Then it goes like February breeze.
Nice to meet you,
Nerd.
And thank you,
Sage.
Always so tense,
Intense.
To find the extremest expression,
The perfectionist.
Yet you know nothing is perfect.
To be the best,
The best is imperfect still.
Soften,
Lighten up.
Lift your life into the sky.
Sublime.
Terrified of my own strength,
Terrified of others.
Our delicate existence,
Strong resistance.
Long time no cry,
I forget how tears drop.
Make me cry!
Screamingly cry!
Neon lights or street lights?
Sirens from scratching that white board,
Using your own nails.
And the white comes off.
And the red.
Blood everywhere.
You are pure gold—molten.
Eyes glitter like stars on my sky.
Nothing is spoken under this.
Nothing will be discussed.
My love is glazed onto this frame,
And the contour, the shape.
We do not resemble fish.
And who can unsee our fiery state,
Drowning within this watery phase?
Not charmed by your goodbye,
I still stand here.
It is very cold outside.
I still wait here.
When I was a child,
I always wish for something I never could be.
I grow up to be the impossible.
Yet you are still unattainable.
Your core is my happiness,
Or my brokenness?