I would write about you but my words have died when you left.
I was sure I’m dead and no one told me.
She needed a hero so she became one.
I saw her hand full of red liquid. I thought it was blood. Then I realized she was holding a brush with stains from the past.
Prove to her you love her and she might believe you.
She’s a little hurricane on a dress.
Place your head on his chest and you’ll hear his heart beating for you and you alone.