When my closet screams with unearthly protests,

When the ruins inside wants to breath the air of freedom, outside,

I stand motionless,

under the sky, speckled with stars,

calculating and re calculating the arithmetic of my unworthiness on Mother Nature,

how selfish and crooked a being am I.

i have glittered my ground with tobacco,

shining like cut diamonds.

i don’t know how to reach my end,

i know not how to lose myself,

i just realize,

that the subdued protests,

coming from the closet,

is maddening,

decking ornaments of courage,

on the cur like soul of mine,

giving me the ethereal belief,

to render freedom, to those ruins,

to those broken bones of melted dead bodies,

that i have killed in past,

for my selfish sadistic pleasure.

but i know not how,

to keep my body,

inside the closet,

when,

i finish,

killing myself.

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Artist at work!

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