If you touch transparency, you’ll see your reflection.

When the door to your arms closes, you lose your mechanism.

Let them have an open book to write on and give themselves a glass of champagne.

Should one celebrate the price of ink these days and the stock market for pens might  crumble.

               If you give a blind man a mirror, he might see that you’ve no heart.

Reach out your hand. Place your fingers on the screen. Stop holding your muscles and let your tips slide across the canvas. Softness…disgusting.

You are so unique when you lack a heart. You are so special when you steal a kid’s candy. You are so attractive when you’re angry. You are so strong when you beat your partner. You are so desirable when you’ve murdered emotion. You are so sexy. The sexiest. You are. So. HOT!

          If you ask a mute man to speak from the heart, he might gift you with empathy.

If there ever was a moment to remember how much I despise salt, it would be when forgiveness became a part of your vocabulary. On your knees with nothing but hair to cover your balding head, your eyes twitch like a baby’s.

— “IS THIS YOUR FIRST TIME?” – My lips whispered, with an ever-growing grin.

Love’s penetrated you, has it not?

No murder, no anger, no abuse. Boring.

And who are you, now that you’re filled with this…emotion?

             If you tell a deaf man how you feel, he might love the heart you’ve grown.

Ink is very expensive, the stock market crashed, your book is empty, the door to your arms has closed, you’ve lost your mechanism and MY GOD, how I despise the salt spilling out of your sockets. You’re not sexy.

No one fucks a man with emotions.