Come on (love me) , let’s go (run with me)
Love, embrace the chemistry , or it’s just a dead fantasy
Come on (love me), you know I want love
Don’t make a fool of me, wrap me tight like jewelry
Get close (body) , don’t leave (stay next to me)
I endure the chemistry , let’s intense the fantasy
Come on (love me) , let’s go (run with me)
Come, (to me, to me) to me (to me, to me)

I love taking risk, that’s my love language (mines)
Kisses from my legs, coming towards my lips
Hold me side by side (sides) , have me clear my mind (my)
Royal as you are (you are), I’ll stay with you and fight
Don’t you ever go- alone
I’ll stay super close- in hopes
I desire you (just you), I know you desire me too ( It’s true)
Lets go make it right, and end this feud tonight

Get close (body) , don’t leave (stay next to me)
I endure the chemistry , let’s intense the fantasy
Come on (love me) , let’s go (run with me)
Come, (to me, to me) to me (to me, to me)

He sails in his day dreams as the foaming crest crashes stars on the shore of his mind, whilst resting his gaze upon the lanterns of the night sky that are brightly akin to the songs untold by his lips, the quivering murmurs in the cosmos are in motion with poetry, thoughts, jazz and coffee, in the place of his solace, darkness is only the prelude to the arrival of the rising sun on the roses softer than velvet and the voyager.

i’d step on your neck at the best of times but
i wish you the best of luck with the rest of your life
break a leg, hit your head, break every bone in your body
though i hope you make it out alive because i’d hate to feel sorry
i hope roses by your bedside would suffice for a goodbye
i hope we never have to speak for the rest of your long life
break a leg

Roses fall, silent;
In moonlight, like pouring rain.
On the leaves, dew hangs

The fault with seeing the world through rose-coloured glasses is that we do not know when to stop.

When the lights at the crossroads flicker red, all we see is light, not colour.

We run, we hide in nostalgia’s walls, playing with the toys we grew out of, talking to the skeletons in our closet.

“Life is so strange,” we say, as though we are no stranger ourselves.

Romanticise, don’t realise
love is like hate
passion like anger, anxiety
and blood, just another fluid

Roses, red all the same

Wine, flows through oesophagus like water flowing like tears of the child’s sighs at night yearning for a relief of the pain of a

strange life

being no stranger ourselves

seeing the world through rose-coloured glasses

not knowing when to stop.