you used to get drunk and bike through Bejing not knowing home is in my arms call yourself completely psychotic and sleep next to a closed knife closed fists knocking down demons oprah used to tell me to believe a man when he says who he is so I belive you this time the only time. you give yourself away every time I reject you rejecting intimate relations to keep yourself sane. you used to get high and longboard to see me my little black lie what drove us apart gave too much, not enough now I'm your stalker call me, ignore me connected energetically you plotted my murder after I put you in the dumpster as you fuck girls that are still minors in the hopes of impregnating one so you'll have a baby instead of being one maybe it was an accident when he rested the back of his neck on the railroad track maybe it was an accident he was born a melancholic prince of the ghetto, molested by his older sister then another "crazy" girl and another till they were all crazy girls in his mind. so like a fallen angel a feral stray dog he layed on the floor guilty of so many lies giddy at getting away with them, well defended. dove head first into my neck, grabbed my nipples blocked, he scatched my eye yanked on my hair denied it was on purpose impenetrable anger wrapped him in sleep, closed pocket knife at his side on the sheet offered him vitamins, water to show him trust was more important than my safety morning came, door unlocked but his mind was still the same.