Consanguinity;

Generation-worth of ice(eyes) turned into fiasco. For power generators that fall beneath kingdoms whose maps are frescos. Mortals are cavity-wall-murals and you aren’t immune to them.

Heartbeats are bullets that become pellets against machine guns. The shelling is aimed at your shelter. You are overexposed at gunpoint, but the smog is making it hard to see. They say, by now, you would’ve seen beyond the glitter, but that’s what it’s like when you play mind tricks on yourself.

You can revolutionize your scars, but pain isn’t forever. I’ve grown twice your size sliding between your hands; I know their skin isn’t turning into leather. Not anytime soon. 

I know it is drawing on your breath, but you are more alive now than you ever will be. Remember that you are the bass in your ears, wild inside your ribcage.

You are free like that.

You are free like flat notes leaving the opera house, untraceable.

Floating in the night sky like Nebula, envied by clusters.

You are the little between violins and violas; the few that get you are miraculous, having the honor to scribe your ashes and to scrub off your dust.

Maybe the reason you never give your best is because you’re afraid you might give it all, and never have it in return. You never give, and thereby never lose.

This is the closest to flue your mind will ever be, you’re burning out, and we aren’t out of electricity.

The buzz is acid down the drain, heroin pumps in your veins. Blood has fled your vessels.

Superheroes are the sum of an imagination, do not justify your last vivid hope; bring it to life.

It is all imaginary, and so is forever. But we’re both too young to know about that.

All that you’ve done, you’ve done by your own, and you’ve run far to tell.

Thrill-seekers are drills to the bottom of Earth.

Your curse will ricochet back at you; don’t get too comfortable.

Dodge the names, if you will, and plant them under your soles. The call is yours to wreck the train.

You’ve got five fingers for a reason; each for a sister, you can’t sustain on your own. Stop sleeping to roars like footsteps against these vicious bricks. 

Don’t drop your lucky penny to thud into a fortuneteller who confessed to you your quest. Don’t push them off.

Build a fort, in terms of paper.

Because we agreed to disagree, aiming for safer.