My speech is imperfect. Not because I want to shine with words, but out of the impossibility of finding those words, I speak in images. With nothing else can I express the words from the depths.
Can you honestly love a dishonest thing?
I want every piece of me to crash into every piece of you,
I swear to god that’s how they make stars.
Sometimes it saves you,
sometimes it can set you free.
Oh but it will hurt.