hah hah, Tifa!
Don't speak to me about Cloud
(I'll fucking slit your fucking throat if you mention that faggot again)
Woo, ribbons of blood, sky of mud
Painful teardrops slit the heavens with
SULFUR
(I'm obsessed with Sulfur)
Johnny's Seasoning Salt
PURE MAGIC
I swear to GOD it makes popcorn taste like the heavens
(but it burns the mind
like my alibi
and my blood sugar high
In the sky, in the sky)
No, this poem is a joke.
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