FxCoLLY!--3.

I like being weird.
Trying to create my own Generation of oddballs,
I use my tickets to Hell to gather them.
We grab our coats and black teeth,
And parade the streets to the tune of bells.
I keep the heads adorned in chaste thorns
Swimming in the green lake by my room.
Like bobble heads, and little turtles,
They gasp to a wintery flick of my hands,
Slow and long movements.
If I ask God to forgive me of my sins,
Then I admit I'm not strong at all.
I break sticks against my head to shut myself up.
Why should I rely on others to watch me break
All the promises I tried keeping?
This isn't f*****g nice anymore.

Author's Note

The title is really weird....