5:35 am - thoughts...

Most choose to get passed their past, I - choose to swim in it; drowning my prey in the liquids they weep. Poseidon. I'll use your tears for watercolors, a pool of blacks, blues, && red. Another section in my canvas, && it reads: pain is beauty in the most peculiar way; && though words are sharp so is my blade. Death is as significant as birth. Do not fuck with me. Have you ever seen a threat written so beautifully?