This December

This sore skin makes it a sizeable night? Or should I believe it's the low-key sun. Your defenses feeble as lotions of milk. Let your hair down. Let down your mess. Winter has come!


Off the lights!

Your hands in air of delusions and my they figure constellations... A moon that stays and those whitish lines on the roads! They slither and fade...

Dark and Drunk!

Let me talk. For I wanna cry...And cuddle and kiss. Happy things happen to happy people! Let’s get drunk? For falling won’t break my bones...Sins I did sincerely. Sincerity sounds stupid...


Nobody can hold water, does water hold anybody? It just lets you sink in your own choices...If I would wanna die, my choice would be water.

The florist

I am incautious. Or am I numb? Across the road I see, I see The florist. Roses, lilies and sunshine. And some are just pretenses...

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