---

I rend with disarming schemes.

I'm the end, and I'm the means.

I am hell, unarmed machine,

I see myself in my T.V.

Pink plaster,

The same pictures,

Of dead blondes,

I'm dead wrong.

In this cesspool,

I'm the vessel of

The void beyond,

I'm dead wrong.

I'm prepared like torn out hair;

Soft to touch, but unattached.

I am a nervous system, about to crack,

With reluctant wisdom that I can't give back.