I've met him all before,
Twisted beauty of what I want
Twisted as I never know what that is
He can be many things but he becomes the one
Thing, that, this, it all that is all required for the heart.
What of this heart,
I fear it,
Loose.
Beggars have knocked on its door,
Beggars who deserve better.
But I made them feel,
What they were.
Too good, or me too bad
for them. Confused.
I is. Backwards, english is
disgusting. Womb hatred.
Emptiness is where I find it,
want so much more,
like the rest have it.
Dont I deserve it?
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