Rain's pitter-pattering on the rooftop
air tinged with a hint of winter breeze...

I don't like mirrors.
In elementary, they scared me...

Never having experienced a white Christmas
and with an almost illogical disdain for snow...

My words are not water.
They do not flow...

Being scared of the dark
worked out for her in the end...

People are like soup.
We come in infinite varieties and flavors...

Carnival lights are reflecting in your eyes and
the cool calm of your hand is somehow...

I am many things.
Perfect is not one...

I don't want to get up
it's cold outside...

Carry on with your lives,
your day to day dreams...

Down the bay, the animals have their way.
In the water they play, beneath the sun's rays...