temple of love.
she was witched, everything was looking great. Screams, helper=skelter down the stairs, tear my hair…rip up any I Hate Myself and Want to Die, Kurt Cobain the `poster Boy, is always spiralling down the stairs. Abandon mascara, never use kohl, straighten hair, Hell straightens hair,
its all looking good.
Screech.
Screeching, not screaming.
Tell a joke.
Love and Hope;
magical. everything was fine.
One Echo;
"Sweetie?"
Helter Skelter…
Don't want white, don't want flair.
Want my own clothes.
not flares. you didn't know. Flares are 2007-10.
Fascist is IN.
Bright colours are fairy.
Don't want them. No thanks.
Crying, weeping. Will not save. All your prayers (Temple of Love, Sisters of Mercy)
---
In souls, angels weep. Kurt is dead.
I am dead.
"There you go!"
That b***** reminded me of the Angel of Hope.
A High Security ward; A classroom. One old Viking King, long red and gold beard, fast cigarettes, at the window.
"We have died, and this is All Heaven. Save US!"
I said to the King;
"You must have wonders, you must see. Heaven has sheltered us. We are Free."
I spin form the window to the cackling women, everyone is smoking. What an odd heave, white doors are all locked. But:
"We are all dead. !!"
All my hope was resting on freedom. I wrote her a farewell, or a an escape note;
"There you go Mannie!!" pen on the whiteboard next to a unicorn.
I had a paradise, the african women that sat outside my door, had a special perfume. A smell of Africa. Like some tiny princess.
They gave me an ecstasy pill. I awake in the sunshine the glorious sunshine.
My nose ring had slipped out and spread up my nose into my brain in the night.
Now I could pick up radio-signals.
They didn't care that i had cheap metal stuck inside my nose-brain.
The amount of the sunshine, equalled the amount of joy, there wasn't a garden, there was a walled small lawn surrounded by windows. Still, the sunshine. The Glorious High.
My little brother.
He would walk from one end of corridor, just to the stop-line of the girl's section.
"My little muslim brother! I am muslim!!! How are you!! my little brother!!"
They wanted to kill me in the smoking room, still i let them kill.
The smoke God turned blue. Wonder of spiralling magical blue smoke.
---
If she screamed Im happy. But;
She Glorious'ed.
"never die, never die, I am here."
I found the African perfume, in her new house. It was situated in the corridor.
"So I was mistaken. I thought they were Holy..."
Who cared?
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