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I'm so tired, I just want to sleep.

It's the same bull**** everyday.
Now that God can't save me,
I feel like making a deal with the devil.
He could breed using my collection of sins.

But aren't we all sinners?

I've never understood why people are afraid of me,
because I'm different - but I'm the same as you.

I myself am strange and unusual,
but my mother would disagree,
reminding me everything has beauty, 
but not everybody sees it.

I beg to differ as there is no elegance in evil.

Whilst my beloved says; 

"Hide your eyes darling, people can see your soul through them."

to which I reply;

"Souls are wild creatures that's why our ribs are cages."

But, I know bullets can pierce them,
I'm not bulletproof, 
So why does life keep firing them?

Even she doesn't understand.

Normal is an illusion. 
What's normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.
So, who are they to judge me? 

My shoes know no other feet.

F*** my life, right?

It's getting dark in this little heart of mine.
F*** the stars, which bring no joy, 
so I curse the night. Extinguish the sun, 
it doesn't make me smile, 
so I close all the blinds to block out the light,
as my whole life is a darkroom of 
forgotten images, because I don't want to 
dance with shadows waltzing far behind.

What is life but a masquerade of artificial existence.

Why should I fear the dark when masks 
people wear in the sun are much more terrifying?

Maybe that is why I never trust the living,
but I know the Devil couldn't handle me, 
even with instructions. 

I no longer search for celestial intervention.

If chaos is a work of art
then my mind is a masterpiece.

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