I dreamed you killed yourself again.
You floated to the pavement light as a feather and I swam my finger through your blood and traced outlines of the [ ] of our dead selves.
The bystanders ate the tarmac and soot vomited out. The ambulance arrived and torched the city with their ruptured gas line. I stood there and bathed myself in your offal.*
I wanted another word than feather. Offal is too violent for the tenderness it implies. I'm being eaten up by the city under my feet.
If god did not wish to thrust his blinding scalpel down upon the corpse of our lives then he would not have lobotomized himself with her own scepter.**
*how many times have you used the exact same city analogy?
**killed, dead, corpse is far too repetitive and far too dull, why don't instead you-

I CAN'T MAKE ART ANYMORE ALL I WANT TO DO IS SCREAM.

No one's dead. This was a metaphor. If you want to know the answer go fuck yourself. BP drilled an oil pipeline through all of our skulls and we're burning brighter than the stars together.