there are always more than you think
one is maybe enough
nothing would be mine and perfect
fishes are sharks and
the ocean is a puddle
there gonna die of loneliness
and a lack of maybe
understanding in a way
he watches porn.
About his sects affairsthus she's lost into telly
- temporary blocked -
Blind in a world of brightness.
Light has no matter for her.
Just be like a tree in her garden,
better than a withering flower,
or a one-day-dying fly of butter,
at least your leaves are a cover,
a repeating memory of darkness.
