Those 12:12 AM blue‑greens can’t lie to me, bitch. Me without the blood‑thirsty lips — just a beautiful silhouette haunting a broken mirror.

Her vibe is laced with Caution A in electric pink tape hell. More like a limbo where hell and heaven just coexist. Of course, to eat breakfast with the Devil and have dinner with God while you’re always complaining to Jesus takes a special kinda glitter. You’re walking thin, thin lines with a numb soul.

Her faith is blind. She has accepted the relationship she has finally managed to get with him. Thought Jesus Christ — she now has acceptance.

A few years ago, when I was Eve in a garden and was the snake, I couldn’t have told you what faith was.

The crowd, the company, the intentions. If you’re crowded, it’s hard to keep your own intentions — especially with the amount of gaslighting humans overdose on.

Can we go back to overdosing on coke instead of jealousy, envy, and hoe?

The acceptance and what she just knows — that’s faith. You’re drowning in fire, but your heart feels chill with the warm glow of the flames. Faith is allowing you to breathe. Faith is the blind love, the trust. God is love, love is God.

Still in front of the iced‑out mirror, she screams, smiles, laughs. Puts the pink frost lipstick on and kisses the mirror as she is finally un‑fucking‑touchable.

There is no one manipulating her, no one lighting gas. Actually, she has a couple of real ones who check on her.

1:11 AM is just the pastel pinks with heels.

She has always loved herself — but with the acceptance of God’s love, the whole level of confidence she is now blessed with is THE CROWN.

There was never two crowns. There was always just one.

The 2:22 AM Moscato is half gone, morally grey is lightly twisting a vibe as the keyboard flows.

3:33 AM hounds. It’s almost time for breakfast with the Devil.

Changing the color of the lights from green to blue, she turns on the shower.

The company you keep.