Who am I I am dust I am salt I am vinegar I am malt. I am spit I am at fault. Who am I My city my life My stickie my stagedive My lovely my nosedive. Who am I Piss, shit, puke, muke. Old guy, Russian spy, wannacry, perfect guy, make me buy, multiply. […]
The pain is gone, smoothed over like a grain of sand, pounded by the incessant waves of emotions. The fear that kept me from seeing the stars, the smiles the oceans. The regret of all my faults and bitter pills. The will for more the need for bliss. No more cheap thrills, this everlasting kiss.