The earth passes through a silent starvation of the arts, you are here to breathe life into those forgotten parts.
The volcanic beauty of the wild and untamed inner song soul, song of a voice forgotten, a collection of hunters lives inside my bones, snake bites between my thighs, venom pours into the mind, but this is sweet death in disguise, a shedding of skin calls to surface every sin as a sacred act of Transformation.
Thira, if Eye allow you to see through the veiled me, will we swallow the Phoenix I have found the edge of fear- its the beginning of discipline. Theres no honor in terror, it humanizes you so fuck it, break your bones for art. Live for iT, die with iT over and over again until you fall in Love with iT, make Love to iT, fall deeply into iTs murder. This is where ecstasy dwells , this is the gateway to Hell.
Terrorize the Mind at Sunset
Scream, bleed, be manic on the day of your birth. Fuck before working at the preschool. Taste yourself off of hands that have abused you. Murder Love. Slash iT over and over again until iT no longer bears the ecstasy. Stomp on the baby bird. iTs already dead, and the children are laughing so Everythings fucking okay. let the older man stare a little longer, maybe even blow him if he can still get hard. Write the damn letter and forgive your mother. She'll be dead tomorrow, a head on collision won't kill you Love will.
In the midst of everything light and sacred, the one dark thing scurried by, asked to be more discrete, ask to be acknowledged, asked to be understood, but vanished underneath voices destroyed by sound. The Black Butterfly is disturbed by its sadness because she can no longer die, so in a fit of liveliness she experiences timelessness and chases her dreams wanting this narrative to become her obsession but finding herself another entity, the Black Butterfly entirely becoming the myth shes been told to be
