3 white candles.
Earthy bath infusing with my elements.
A French film, my thoughts.
I don’t want to ever give this up again—
I won’t, can’t live without it.
I’ve created distance between my lovers and myself again;
no wonder they don’t believe me.
But I mean it this time—
I only want myself.
I’ve grown warmth.
My hollers are a gradient opera.
God help me.
God leave me alone.
I knew it—
I knew it.
He’ll never leave me alone.
How’d he conceived a string
out of nothing—
nothing.
Dear moon,
Freegrandmaa 