I was born to love everyone but I loved so hard the insides of my lugs tore apart. Sometimes I love too deep. In a city too dark to love in, we overlook the mountain and hedges that have pricked the life of us with thorns, banished us in places that see silence through congested thoughts. We sing Like a humming birds. Singing in attempt to abolish the very existence of our stars and the stars we shared yet, we lay quilted in stardust and the silhouettes of our shadows. They burst into flames or kaleidoscopes, a beauty, complimented by the prophecy of life itself. Sometimes we hope to speak like our words have lost themselves in the coils of our tongues but we hope to live with strength not habituated in settings of frost and snow. Our worlds don't intertwine but our hopes do. We seek refuge in prayer during the midst of our foggy minds and the very cosmos of our thoughts. We recite the soft speech of the holy book to excuse us from the blackness of the universe. Our souls wonder naked from emotions and exposed to our own destinies created with incompatibility and dissection.