There Is An Objective Reality

Of Course I Loved You, You Saved My Life. I Wish You Hadn’t I Wish You Hadn’t I Wish You’d Left Me Alone.

I Crave White On White And Black, But My Thoughts Race In Glorious Technicolour, Prodding Me Awake, Whipping Away The Warm Blanket Of Invisibility Every Time It Sears To Smother My Mind In Nothing.

No One Survives Life.

I Don’t Have Music, Christ I Wish I Had Music But All I Have Is Words.

Your Hair Is An Act Of God.