Distorted eyes, erratic voice whispering. Distorted sight. The prayer of the naive. I do believe in the wide opened hearts to oblivion. A world ending, the variables of God and all his angels. Imperfect skin, constantly searching for caress. Pretentious whore pretends to be pretending happiness and she's happy for real. Hands covering Slenderman's no-face. Yearning hearts in the fire of forgetfulness. Distraction in hypnotism, mesmerized fangs of mine. Several severed head's snakes. Where is the hypnotist? Making such a nonsense world for everyone else, meanwhile I hide in the gardens of Sourness. Such inspiring fingers touch me when I don't want to be touched. Writing about birds that turn on the lights of our dreams. The easier the cube is, the less wanted are the desires. The most awkward the landscape is, the most wanted it becomes to the painter. Short metaphors to drive me hell or paradise. Nevermind, because I don't have the keys, otherwise I wouldn't write to the devil about the contamination of loneliness. So many dirty clouds, schmutzige Wolken.
