I Do Not Know Who I Am

You Smile. No, It Is Not Fatal.

Oh What A Poet I Will Flay Myself Into.

I Feel Occasionally My Skull Will Crack, Fatigue Is Continuous - I Only Go From Less Exhausted To More Exhausted & Back Again.

Ever Since I Was Small I Loved Feeling Somebody Comb My Hair. It Made Me Go All Sleepy & Peaceful.

I've Eaten A Bag Of Green Apples. Boarded The Train, There's No Getting Off