sometimes not at all

the rebelution of the infamous crimson character


1. sometimes not at all

sometimes I think our hands started as palm to palm.

our eyes only set to one percise focus.

the nose as atmosphere's lonely passage to the body.

our ears: as one listener.

the lips; a sheild for our naive, little teeth.

our lungs, a lung.


maybe it was desire for another palm that outstretched our fingers.

maybe it was the sanction of splendour and spite that seperates our two eyes.

maybe the greed for an abundance of air that gave us two nostrils.

perhaps the keen sensibility; the greed for savage wisdom, that gave us our ears.

or the words that


and bleed

from the tongue that seperates our lips.

maybe a brittle, gasp for sweet oxygen that severs the lung.


Sometimes I think we have to convince our heart

that, he too,

must rebel against himself.


I think it was always intended,

for our hearts to be broken.

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