The sunset drips in hues of blood orange,
Melting into whispers of the softest blues...

Tender is the bud of the flower growing from the...
When the world felt too threatening, I sealed it...

Who knew something so small
could be the highlight of the day...

March 17, 1997, under the four-leaf clover,
- a symbol of faith, hope, love, and luck...

Blood covers my hands, my fingers trembling.
My throat is raw and burns from stale acid...

I wanted to be selfish.
To fall to my knees, entangle our fingers...

Will we find each other when our worlds grow cold?
lost between the there and now...

Ink drips from my eyes like rain from the sky
As I spill my emotions on this old parchment...

I haven’t seen the sun
My world is blanketed in dark clouds...

Please don’t judge my sexuality
‘Cause you’ve got no business there...

I wish that once in a while you’d have the nerve...
‘Cause if you’re always this dishonest, tell...

The word tattooed on my skin
A reminder of how naive I can be...