They did worse than murder our heroes, they showed us they were villains.

There's a reason I like rainbows so much, it's because they come after rain, the rainy day that I felt every day I had a birthday, not because it wasn't special

But, because I wanted to be one of those colors in the rainbow,

but there's no brown in rainbows.

There's no mentally ill in the ends of movies, they triumph and get better.

There's no Hispanic characters who are just characters. They all have accents and drug dealer boyfriends, There is no uniqueness. Just acceptance of stereotypes.

There's no half-white half brown, just white and black, and brown as dirt brown.

When will we be people eating cupcakes together, no colors,

The only rainbows on the cupcakes we share.

Who plays on playgrounds at night? Dead children, honey. Dead children.

Sometimes, if you have something wrong with your brain, you hear things, like quotations from a movie that doesn't exist

Because it shouldn't because who would watch it?

Well, me,

Because I am writing it, right now,

and you're reading it, or maybe no one is and I am talking to myself.

I almost died when I was a kid, and then again and again

Sometimes my fault, sometimes not.

So I have met the children, who have never had the chance,

I have met the girl with pretty long hair who would never have a chance to ride a horse, even though she was just 13,

But she died in that hospital, while I grew up

And got a second chance,

To sit on sidewalks and beg for money to destroy myself.

So sometimes, I go to the park and pretend.

I am playing with all the children, who died in children's hospital in Philly

While this mangy lying addict lived.

Wow. Self Burn.

I am sorry guys. I will be back to play soon.

He dreams of your disease center

In a far away world, not that far from here really lived a man who began to deeply sexualize the human mouth, because in this far off world, you weren't allowed to see it anymore. So he would sit and stare at the cloth and sterile medical coverings over those saliva producing warm centers of word producing eroticism and he would dream of them uncovered,

He would think of seeing their lips move, their tongue make words.

But, it's just him, because he's deranged.

There's no need to see human mouths anymore.