The Bloody Doors Off

What the fuck am I even doing here?

Graphic designer, playwright, occasional asshole

Requiem

I give you the sun that once rested on my head so early in the morning. May it warm you in the coldest moments.

I offer my breath, so that you may exhale when the pain grows to great.

I bequeath my heart, may it one day be repaired and help another find love.

I donate my eyes, so that you may see past obstacles.

I would provide hope, but the well is almost dry.

And last, my words, for I am silent.