are you so desperate,

howling like lovers and mosquitos,

to be inside of my nightmares?

do you speak inside riddles?

do you speak in my sleep?

i spent the mornings of your resounding wake,

cold and calculated as they were,

burning up like plague and sulfur.

i am the prophetic whisper

that tattooed itself in your ears.

i am the prodigal son

that wrought havoc upon you.

I'm running around,

with my head cut off

and hands cut up,

this romantic apocalypse.

heart shaped burns

and "love you's,"

dancing lazily around

in gun smoke,

adorn my head.

i am the prince

of prosperity

and singularity.