The good
Lord does not grant...
Hide it within smoke and mirrors,
Slink into the black and fear...
Battle lines have been drawn,
And forces now amass...
I hear
a young girl calling out...
A dust of magie noire on my wrist
a splash of moon drops behind the ear...
I was a forgotten ugly duckling
that found shelter under...
I went to my first funeral at fourteen. Three...
later, I went to my second one...
Things haven't changed that much.
We've just glued shame...
My big red button
is bigger than your button...
Don't let anyone
Remove that spark of inspiration...
When I was blind
I thought she was a map...
When life gives you lemons, you can make lemonade...