(This is actually just mixed up words from a bunch of quotes that really matter to me but that’s kinda an anagram…)

When It is possible to become life, and much worse.

Carry death, never once wrapped in silk.

In the same sentence.

In the same body.

Blood was red, wrapped in love and pain.

God fed it love on a silver spoon.

Better than I does, poetically, just beautiful.

The devil off is still the devil.

Nothing ends, all that was always possible is poetry.

We turn to it,

carry it,

you will learn.

I can’t be them.

If I ever have as many teeth;

your knives lick ends into it and I.

You’re not to me as it?