Tell me how to write stories across the spaces between our lips because it feels oddly like were whispering our secrets to the stars to hold forever.

(Andy Swan)

it reminds me of hell when you leave, like persephone leaving hades in the spring, everything becomes so dull, so cold.

(Quil Ateara)

a series of little things
caught in between
the future we had
and where we are now
but they will learn
not to mess with the heart
of those that belong to
someone else

(Andy & Quil)