What terrible

purpose.

Violets

in her eyelids.

You wanna end war and stuff?

You gotta sing loud.

Like

terror.

Because

fuck.

Self-

controlling.

I don't like

other people's friends.

Butt

much?

I sold my memories

to a microscope.

We didn't need dialogue.

We had faces!

Every night I lay myself down to sleep,

I ask myself these questions three:
What the fuck are we fighting for?
What the fuck are we fighting for?
What the fuck are we fighting for?

We should do away with saying

that, to me, a thousand years is a blink of the eye. Yes, I am the infinite. Yes, I am eternal. Yes, I am fucking bored.

Cracks

in the earth.

If dreams and memories sometimes get confused,

well, that's as it should be.

Man takes picture of penis

every day for five years.