Divine Narcissism

I don't run in the velvet cliffs and thick blue sky blood for girls.

I don't look like a super model for girls.

I don't drive fast for ?

I don't make money for girls.

I don't slit my wrists with rose thorns or broken bottles for girls.

I don't pray to Venus for ?

I don't go up into the stars and finish ambrosia before sunrise for girls.

Everything I do, I do for myself.

I don't ride harleys for ?

I don't do drugs for girls.

I don't ejaculate confetti and spin the silk yarn into a concerto for girls.

I don't create an emblem surrounded by angelic fire drawing a pentacle and enchanting a broken down archetype for ?

I don't kiss the funeral rose for girls.

I don't go to LA and fuck in front of a camera for ?

I buy things for myself and not for girls.

I don't create art out of words for ?

I don't write poetry for ?

I don't wear platforms and furs digging my hips into the sensationalized machine sounds for ?

I don't fantisize about being world renown for girls,

but I do get fucked-up, ripped beyond belief, torn to the seams were my threads show and the scars from tumbles, all specifically and for the soul worship of divine narcissism and collatoral bruises on the field of over charged sense, surrounded by angelic source and power direct, for girls that like to strip.