Butterfly Sky : Troubled

Explain this - how do I explain?
Without rhyme - I cannot predict a
lifeless flame - a heart that wouldn't mend -
a needle that would pretend - a soul that
would be sold and an angel that would buy it...

The bright - high - higher than high
angel (the Lucifer) we know and love, who sold us
hate, pain and blood... and enough broken hearts
to teach about love...
(Happy childhood/Happy childhood) - - -
Explain pain, pain, pain, pain, pain, pain and more pain...
I'd rather die than rewind this life.

Can I put it into context - write a book (forward/slash) poem
about how 1 step forward is 2 steps back
written in blood...
And I tried to get blood out of a stone... because someone told me
I should waste my life away
on drugs and better days.
What can I show for it - when advice gets turnt away
like a magic mushroom that has just been paid...(?)

I couldn't turn a heart of gold into a heart of
a person with cold hands and a wasted skull.

Whisper to the dead in an unrequieted love affair and type until
your fingers bleed - like the number Se7en: ready for Heaven... when Hell is
waiting there aswell - like the death bell that rings six times before seven angels sing hymns and we're on the Revolution. Part 1: Chapter 10.
Fucking Big Ben and sinister time that fucks your sister like you fucked mine.

Fucking white time? White powder? White power and white lines...
Could I wear black for a day called Halloween... crack for me and heroin seems
like a stitch in the eye that is black like a pirate and the parrot that could die.
Will die.
Everything dies in the end, does it friend? Let's call Frank and ask him why the FUCK I shouldn't go back to that...when my lungs ain't healing and my brain is still searing - like a sieve in a pentecostal church. And I could grow up with insects and better-black-cracks that walk in to hell and make it even worse...
Could I thank you for that?
Maybe a razor is better than a kid on crack...

Bent up mind like a prison that done time on hearts and fire. Couldn't I get what I desire - a pyromaniac and an automatic suicide that gets higher with time and higher with power... Light bulb (fuck it) can we fucking-fucking-lose it?


But, butterfly, butterfly - where do you fly to?
Do you pass the short cut and
can I follow you?