It's a little cold in our hell tonight.

It's a little cold in our hell tonight. We like it hot. Burning hot. We enjoy the heat. It invigorates us. Swallows us whole. Makes us go mad. Then we get lost in wild things. Roam in woods. Jump in lakes. Swim in fire. Talk to strangers. We shed blood not tears. Refuse to look both ways before we cross any street. We follow the winds that call our names. Set things on fire. We'd set the world on fire if we didnt have to live in it. Blow up ant piles. We watch after stray dogs, but we never keep pets. Us and our bloodshot eyes we do not sleep at night. We do not sleep at all. We are the dreamers dreamers dream of. We write and carve on walls and wood. We do not speak ill. If we speak at all. The haunts of men haunt us too. We travel throught the dark and do strange things in the midnight sun. Through this all and more we have the thought and yes we know our mothers would be ashamed.