To be the night flowers that grow wild on your forest floor.

the ghost forest.

she is secretly in love with the darkness.

very few will look for me,
only those who understand trees

the ghosts are calling me back home

the more i hang out with trees, the more i long for quietness

maybe we just need to be held in ways we cannot explain.

Those little unexpected moments when someone makes an effort just to make you feel loved will never get old

In a world where you can be anything… just be a good human 🤍

Gentle souls not yet entangled. But you dream, want them to

The soul inherently senses misaligned energies and knows when to withdraw, retreating inward like a flower at dusk to preserve its vital essence until it can bloom again among kindred light

Music is made when unsaid feelings turn into words.

Forming generational blessings.

A tweets interpretation is a reflection of the reader.

Maybe real isn’t rare, but it’s just become disingenuous. Much like common sense is still common, but completely nonsensical now.

I hope my blood permanently stains the streets of your heart.

I hope my smile burns into the billboards of your mind.

I hope my laughter echoes through the alleyways of your soul.

I hope my love becomes the measurement by which all others are judged.

'You're so scary!!' That's literally the whole point of my existence