Those days my name became torn, things were similar to hurt, what was the point of anything, still wondering, but god, the amber fields were paradise, before someone grabbed the jaw you might have asked why it still matters, would things be better with more or less roses, wanted love by the bonfire but quickly my feelings were stolen, please don’t blame me, what was once nirvana is now a straight razor, please float into the sky with goggles on, I’m dreaming of the garden again, wishing someone fought for me back then, if I’m not wearing red on the outside then what am I doing, can’t name feelings, this could be paradise, this could be a sea of desert, silvery-green and neon, did you see forktail beneath the surface, mourn your wings, wish I had leather bags of money and crimson in my hands, nothing matters in all that ocean, in dreams you are swimming at midnight and I’m twilight, red algae kelp, sick coral and a shallow heart, I remember thinking there had to be more so I plucked myself out of the narrative and now I live as a little sugary kelp slice, please wash your face, don’t forget about me, don’t hit your head on the flip, red string seaweed in the summertime, when will you abandon me? This always takes time.