Love Trumps Hate

We are bleeding red, drained pale white and bruised a deep, dark blue.

Waiting Game

There’s just this waiting game and I don’t know how to play.

Zombie Boy dead at the age of 32.

Love is her legacy.

Wordless sweetness.

Michael wasn’t magic, he was better than magic, he was love.

It’s like the fact that it really happened eased my fear.

Today, we drink in the victory.

Should I erase or embrace my own history?

Baths are gross.