Eczema:

incurable.

Rip
skin
and
break
nails.


I could live for the night.

Children of the moon

Art thou?

Your smell's here, but you're not
These covers cover nothing
I won't sleep under them tonight

C'est un jour que peux changer tout le choses.

Inside, a vast emptiness
Empty road to the heart

No bricks flying here,
but the birds are still dying
Chirp chirp?

Road to Rome, far from the coast
Middle of nowhere,
Ah! Ghosts...
Clean under my cuticles, uncrust stale bread
Garbage can in which you spit, not the place to eat.