151a

i wrote me a book i hid the last page i didn't even look i think i locked it in a cage wrote a novel cause everybody likes to read a novel... it started with a word, and it started pretty well about a rare and fragile bird that I couldn't even spell

Who are you? Who am I to you? I am the antichrist to you fallen from the sky with grace into your arms race Lucid lovers me and you a deal of matchless value I was always quick to admit defeat empty statements of bones and meat And my heart it shook