I want to put this vapid world to a torch and warm my hands by its flames.
Sometimes, I wonder what keeps me so sane.
My thoughts straddle the line of insanity, dancing on either side in a cruel jape, but what keeps me sane? I have no idea.. My thoughts turn more and more violent as each smile flashes across vacant faces, meaningless. I am mortal. Yes, that's it and I'm going to change that.

I reckon I should tuck myself into bed and just excuse this as a minor fit of injustice.

Leaves broken in two as if split by an invisible wire upon their descent; into their new arrival to become one with the earth. Some say that it's every leaf's journey to make, but what do we know of the trifles of the shedding of seasons or the toll it takes on one's identity? To be broken for months and thus renewed. To be stripped and vulnerable. To be mocked until one dons that striped umbrella again, that decorative coat, or sequined headband. I admire your leaves but I treasure your limbs. The only constant and sacred thing about you, my dear.

Shame-faced and rosy cheeks.
You're a pretty, little liar.
Hung up on slender wires.
Drunk on others misery.