Who Was Blowing On The Nape Of

If Your Words're True, They're Armed.

By Each Crime And Every Kindness, We Birth Our Future.

I Feel Like Something Important Has Happened To Me. Is This Possible?

Autumn Is Leaving Its Mellowness Behind For Its Spiky, Rotted Stage. Don't Remember Summer Even Saying Goodbye.

Who Was Blowing On The Nape Of My Neck?