Birb On Parking Lot

I don't like red. I used to like it, but not anymore, it's too much too bright to everywhere as if everything will be in it, sooner or later.

I saw them,

Looks like whatever was outside this night never managed to come inside.

Good.

Oh. It's dangerous to stay here.

It's been a while. I don't think I want to speak about red lights again, but... It's inevitable, isn't it.

I can't just ignore them.

Dried flowers are constant. They don't change, don't grow, don't rot.

Only turn to dust when their time comes.

I was assured that birb is fine. They're going places and those places are more or less in their reach, according to their abilities.

Red berries, red red red red red

Bitter, long rotten but still hauntingly beautiful.

We're in new reality anyway

Calm one

Cold one

You look from behind the corner and only thing you can see is darkness that can't be tamed by a simple street lamp.

It feels haunted.