なりた

to detach is to reclaim yourself whole what is a day without desire? freedom feels like a dangerous kind of permission i long for my independence

One day you'll tell the little ones, "Blue was a color, not only that somber feeling withing your heart." One day you'll tell them oceans were of cyan and green and blue, dancing gracefully. But today everything's of black and red. For once you hate bravery.

Misjudged, stereotyped, undervalued.. I had been friends with all these names. I survived AND thriving. Your current stance can be my guess, not ghost.

It's not how things don't make sense cause the hatred, how we victor this ego and refuse to acknowledge our lack of understanding are.

Drunk of feeling lost. Sober of consciousness.

Withering–as mourning wanders all 'round my senses.

She was a pale-coloured soul, now a darkest blackout that barely exists.

I'm the orange of burning red  of a fire that you are.

Oh, how tied blood aren't enough reason for one stop speaking ill of another, I don't know.

It's so unforgiving how emotion took over words–as it drowns what's supposed to be shown.

Let's sin and never look at ourselves the same again.

Will you sit still while I jump around and get too psyched about the pouring rain?