you'd think that this labyrinth was full of gnomes and trolls as you put fairy-tale faces on stereotypes, misunderstood words and actions they all scream commands in your corridors where every word taken in adds to the dust where every lie taken in hatches into a viper and you enjoy its life and share it gladly using the coolest personas from the silver screen //i wrote you a letter with a road map of your mind so you wouldn't get lost but you did anyway// the corridors' walls have stone-carved smiles not writings miles of dungeons with only lava lamps for light that's your secret closet full of wigs and makeup for more fabricated enjoyments and contraception for some thoughts: can a red dress save the world? must draw less wolves more bunnies and: i would really like the world peace //don't promise peace when you mean war don't give credit for fever to whom it isn't due it's not the firefighter that starts the fire// what is ...
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