rain falls and rainbows multiply.
dreams renew themselves every season.
i am a Goddess who is not a good, for i wish not for immortality but for the End.
tragedies tear apart lives.
tears sinking into aging skin.
someday, i will board the ferry, and greet charon with an obol and hopes of a fool
alive for sixteen, almost seventeen years.
hey, just a little tired today.
in my dreams, my art comes to life.
that is life, isn’t it? you know that you’ll die in the end, but you continue to live. why?