These little suicidal questions
written under sleeves...

Confession: I don't feel well,
terrified of the dreams...

You asked me how I could afford
to stuff so much love into such...

Too many emotions,
floating through this space...

Someday I'll be the gasoline
running through your cars...

Little words
written in red...

Dark brown eyes
worth getting lost in...

If I'm just so amazing,
why ain't I burnin' like a star...

We spend the entire hello
saying goodbye...

The lights are fading
setting sun...

A specteral light
emenating through fog...

Denial rolls off hypcorite tongues
like dew sparkling through the night...