unripe
they say it'll cleanse me and renew me, so well i'll forget who i am
drop by my house at half past noon; we'll make small talk of murder over chamomile tea © VANGOHS, 2017
these days of youth grow shorter, while my lips are bleeding for relief. [3/3: "A COLLECTION OF: ODES TO YOUTH"]
win a fist fight with the sky and she'll tell you all her secrets