welcome to the circus.

nature's first green is gold,
her hardest hue to hold.
her early leaf's a flower;
but only so an hour.
then leaf subsides to leaf.
so eden sank to grief,
so dawn goes down to day.
nothing gold can stay.




the water is clear,
but your body is stained.
your face says happy,
but your eyes scream pain.


"Art and love are the same thing: It’s the process of seeing yourself in things that are not you."