dear pupa...

In the morning i torn down my walls
which was built by you and me
through the line of our imagination.
it had withstand unassailable fights
over possession was precise.

I'm cleaning out all pictures
which meant a world to me
now stimulates me puke it all out
in front of your branded mask.

The weather even concern about complacement smile from the victor...
You are a lover of your own completeness which consumes you.
i feel so sorry.

Saturday Night Feast

Tonight with no gleam, no gingerly sound.

Another exam for both fidelity behind the infinite silence.

I swear i hate every seconds u bargain for.

Suppose i should supersede my nimble mind currently working on identity.

But YOU are my weakness.

Life is another lesson.

I want a platonic this, unlike your strenuously other.

I write lines for u to read but u dont listen. Could we even overhaul?