Why did I say that? I shouldn’t have spoken.

Of course I hesitate endlessly before I speak. Then you make me. Your dagger in my heart and my mouth bleeds.

Stop it.

I love this because I need it for survival.

Stop it.

Like diving deeper when I know my oxygen is running out. But it’s not out yet. I breathe.

You’re my oxygen and I hate to itemize your being but it’s reality. I only breathe you.

But breaths are ethereal. Hence your being.

Stop it. You’re only air molecules lost in my lungs, waiting for me to exhale.

You stop it. The heart aches as it knows its beats are not property. Its beats is communism. And Russia falls.

Why did I ask? I need to shut up more often. But I can’t help my mind racing about torturing you. Sadistic bitch.

Vomit and other shit. And your ego dances like them tribes, zealously and the magic potion boils. You cook them.

That’s why we’re here after all, right? To cook others as they blindly fall for us. Vomit. I need to throw you up because I can’t take your beauty within my guts. My guts burn from your acid.

It settles in the soul and I cried that night. I cried because I asked and you spoke and I spoke and we’re lost.

Where are we now? We’re in the land of things murky and dead. But no corpses around. Only shards of what we’ve been years ago.

Stop it.

I need to kill myself so that I can kill you. If I go you shall remain but your memory will recede to ashes.

Will you haunt me in the grave? In the grace?

Please do.

Shut up.

Don’t listen to me.

Listen to me.

Please come visit.

Don’t think about crossing.

Please I am only human.

Don’t come near that epitaph.

Please I am sorry.

Don’t read my epitaph.

Please I may give you.

Don’t read my epitaph.


It says: I love you for moments.


It says: I thought moments are not enough.

Turn away.

It says: But my heart beats with acid and it hurts.

Go back.

It says: Only moments and I love them moments.

Step away.

It says: If moments count for eternity, I love you.

Come visit and I promise.

Leave this instant.

And I promise I will do it all over again.




Greetings from someone scared.

Someone scared.