Insentient blisters in my eyes dilating agony 

To matter and art I vow black veils of crushed pain

Breathing

Weaving 

Placing my underskin on a pile of caterpillar game in nights of comics and short stories

This is a mote of someone else's memory and I'm haunted with mixed feelings of apathy which I try to accept

My haunted serenity playing someone's else's memories

I will grunge your thoughts of blistered  beauty 

In your brain cells my toe nails painted with German literature 

Just like Heidegger's and Hussler's beliefs of death

I died together

And epitome of ire is devour to time