Reputation.

through the wind for cheap lies and the howl of the moons echos.

I create illusions of curves and and a body full of hurt.

Having regrets of a Saint and the smile of a sinner, I show the process of pain. From beginning, to the middle and so I can remember the end.

I bend my self backwards before the mouths can talk and the ears can listen.

Through the sky of shining stars and the trees of growth. I stand to see the journey of my journal and ass I see the flames of my broken past.