One thing will seem to fall into place, but another will seem to go astray.
I recieved an
it was
On the other hand, I miss the smell of smoke.
I was wrong.
Everytime someone died. color and breath, the fast unfurl of carbon away from death plants that rise and grow, strange citybomb beneath…
Bloomed in the fall, I loved you in the winter. When summer came the world was dead and cold.