Reality breaks open harsher than flames in a garden.
The stories that end, are stories told, repeated, and then started… Flow of streams, symbolizes flow of consciousness.
And my flow of dreams, signifies realism that is demolished.

Reality constantly shakes me, and I am open to a new era.
My eye cornea breaks wide open, as my perceptions become much clearer —

As if some kind of mirror… My reflections,
it tells me truths turned inside out of lies.
I can barely cry, and that gives me anxiety, because at heart I am such an incredibly emotional guy.

My emotions make me feel alive,
so a glimpse of numbness,
makes me feel such an unease.

So in turn, I squeeze,
And bleed,
my expression that needs loathing… Yes, in turn I breathe,
By telling poetry that bleeds,
Eradicating my latent, and fragrant emotions.