A Letter

I’m tired of the morning sun, I fall in love with faded spits…
I’m bored of all the wars I won, detailed fairies on eye-lids…
I’m not made for the words you said, I spit upon your thrones and all the
shapes you’ve changed for me, made of honey, flesh an bones…
A letter from the inner ghost…
Ink in arteries…
A revenge for myself, that’s lost…
I change the enemies…
I can’t forget your animals' noise…
I’m frighten by your peace…
I can’t forget your blackshaped toys, your cancer-like disease…
I’m not made for the words you said, I spit upon your thrones and all the
things you want from me, made of honey, flesh and bones…
A letter for the inner ghost…
Ink in arteries…
A revenge for myself, that’s lost…
I change the enemies…
Today…