You’re going to ask yourself “how can I show my love for you?”

You will learn to air bend every inch of good air into a tornado that is exhaled from your lungs.

Fagget is a pile of sticks.

Depression is not a choice most days.

Happiness is a choir and you have a solo.

You have to much retribution in your lungs to ever crack or whatever Whitney Houston said.

You have an art form that is addicted to healing you or whatever Artmendsus means.

I know you won’t hear this so you’ll read it… you’s that bitch, you’s that poet and you’s one beautiful shattered masterpiece.

Go to sleep, get some rest, wake up healed and reconciled. Artmendsus needs you.