to my windowi could sleepfor a thousand years there is a city in my mind a circus or asewer in blood and death beneatha screaming sky i lie on the groundsearch throughone inch thoughts now i have freezing handsand bloodless veins the taste is not sosweethowiwishiwasunlivinghere if i could makethe world as pureand strangeas whati seeit is the terror of knowingwhat this world is about those children try