and now
at the end of our days
when we have nothing left
but our memories,
if i could tell you
just one thing
it would be how much
my heart burns for you
and that our love
will remain
my sweestest hallelujah
and outshine every star
in the night sky.

A rose, everblooming.
Petals swelling around their base.
Bounded by a timeline,
We sway and I bite down on a kiss.
Busted, bruised, swelling and pink.
My heart pounds itself out, aching, running a mile a minute.
A tear slips through my dry, brick wall features.
Dust in the wind, for I am as alone as I came into this world.

My phone starts to ring, and it's you and only you.
"Happy birthday to you!".
You call me by our name;
A Rose by any other name...
Except with you, I'm a rose in a sea of blue.
Skies as bright as sapphires, clouds as soft as silk.
I make a wish, I blow it out.
My tears dry up; My soul is a drought.
I'm found. I love your voice. It cradles and cares for me,
My leaves shed.

I love you. Remember that, too.
You're my first and my last-

"-Happy birthdayyyy tooooo yoouuuuuu! I love you, Rose."

And I love you, too.

My imaginary friend
one i take my midnight adventures with
who i lean on to
Are you tired of wondering into the seas of my thoughts?
Are the waves too violent for us to swim further?

Every time you pick your head up, the fierce waves hit harder than the last
Are you holding on tight to our board?
One that builds hope and expectations

You know me better
I'd rather fall into the deep ocean
No board will float us up


— Moza

Anxiety Crossover,
X on my throat.
A grip, fingers dig inside of my throat.
Feel a hand in my soul,
clawing.
Pulling.
Ripping out of my mouth.
I feel a '****'.
A sigh.
And my head hits my shoulder.
my shoulder rolls into my spine.
And my fingers knock on brick;
Linoleum, fingernails digging in the grout.
A wave of jerks and twitches,
And a breeze.

see - cah - moh - re
you used to say that
the wrong ones
dont matter to you, baby-
what if im wrong?
what if i'm not the right one
for you

see - cah - moh - re
you used to say that
the wrong ones
don't matter to you, darling-
but what if you are?
and you're not the right one
for me?

sturdy, sturdy
as the sycamore tree
is my love for you,
my darling thee

but as the roots, spreading
continuously till bedrock-

there is end to us,
there is end to love.

see - cah - moh - re
you say that
the right ones dont matter to you now
for they have no stories
to tell
no regrets to burn

and like the sycamore tree
that you've always pronounce wrong;
till there is growth in stagnation.

I know you're right for me.