Don't make it look so pretty burning.

Dear Life,

Please send me love in the form of a person who has an eye for the interior and a heart for the overseen. Give me carefree nights of alcoholic bliss and sober moments of self-love. Make stars crash down to drown me in wishes. Gift-wrap infinite optomism in unlikely dreams.

Until then, I make do with what I have.

I've grown so apathetic in my resentment,
living
loving
knowing not.

--Lauren

[what was ... what will be]