daytime's Literatures
the makings of a flower and the trail it leaves behind
rumour has it
Mild Violence
we buried them in a time capsule, said we'd find them again when we were older, said we'd never be apart and always stick together, then someone built a cement wall of guilt, betrayal, tears and blood; as if it would stop us, you and i were never the type to give up
A picture says a thousand words and a smile says a thousand more.
On a rare night where the power in the whole city was cut, its people saw stars for the first time in a very long while.
Mild Violence
A definition, a memory, a routine.