"Twisted Fact"
26.9.11
"I can't tell.
My mind is plagued with sickness.
Bleeding oceans,
entertaining the body.
But what is this?
Past simple infatuatioon,
close to enamour.
Salt on the wound is love.
To be skinned alive,
submerged.
A temporary distraction
as it ravages everything.
In constant war,
the mind is only the ignorant jester.
At gunpoint,
the end is falsehood.
If so desired,
why is it so twisted?
Disfigured, beastly?
Yet the most gorgeous to be gazed upon.
The bloodletting must be taking a toll."
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