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"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing but burn,...
I've lost the home in my house. I had never found the comfort called home In the house where I resided. I had never found the comfort called home In those whom only my blood coincided.
Floating without care of yesterday’s toll In the endless river of blinding white, I close the shutters and cover my soul From the cries, the laughs, and war day and night.
to keep the whispers of the night from sending shivers down supine spines curled around infirm hearts. to trespass for a few moments in the dark forests of each other's minds.
what might lead to happier life; knowledge of good and evil. treating my tongue to the honey and the poison. lips lusting after wine; sweet and strong emotion.