Kath-Leena

This is my world Inside my head Locked away tightly by my hard skull and quiet heart. This is my asylum Eyes and mouth like bars So that no one can touch or hurt me anymore. This is my escape Wings spurt from my back And the laws of reality have no hold On my transient self and I can be anyone. This is my creation Other's words have no effect They shriek in my ears But I am unmoving, I am free. But sooner or later Worlds die Asylums check you out Escapees get caught And the creations you bear are stillborn in an unforgiving world.

I am the worst kind of hoarder- The hoarder of words I hoard books, poetry, song lyrics, and articles- For I love so dearly. Simply looking just will not do I must possess them. Thus, I must commit murder to acquire my treasure. Why? some ask When you have USB sticks, and Ipads, and hard drives- Do  you need print? Why when the has it all Do you need your own copy? Ah, I smile, They are my weapons, yes, but they are also my insecurities. For USBs can be lost Ipads broken, hard drives fried- And then it will all be gone, As if it were never there. And what a beautiful mode of death it is. One click of a button And my love appears by magic- P