¿˙˙˙ƎƎS ∩O⅄ Op ┴∀HM

Fractured. NƎʞOɹꓭ. That's what you wanted me to be.
Was it Love or Ǝ┴∀H?
I asked and you ᗡƎHפ∩∀˥.

Pushed to the brink of ⅄┴IN∀S. Surprised when I snapped?
Agony crumbling to ash in my arms.
Now there's no escape.

ǝɔuǝʇᴉuǝd lɐuɹǝʇǝ ɹnoʎ sᴉ sᴉɥꓕ
ǝɯ ɯoɹɟ ǝǝɹɟ ǝq ɹǝʌǝu llᴉʍ no⅄
YOU AЯE MINE
ǝuᴉɯ ǝɹǝʍ noʎ ʇnq ˙noʎ pǝʇɐɥ I puɐ noʎ pǝʌol I
ƃuᴉɥʇǝɯos lǝǝɟ oʇ ʇsnɾ noʎ ʇɹnɥ oʇ pɐɥ I

Isak's not sure what drew him to New Orleans originally.
Perhaps it was a little birdie in his ear whispering that interesting things were to come.
That little birdie often spoke to him and lead him to new interesting places.
No prophetic dreams, no visions, just a quiet voice.

w h i s p e r i n g

w h i s p e r i n g

A face that's hard to forget, a soft youthful beauty that haunts one's memories.
A Rose or a Mirror? Confusion. The inescapable curse of one and the identity of the other.
Isak simply lets others make their own assumptions. Rarely does anyone figure out the truth.

NOI┴ƆƎ˥ℲƎɹ S,ɹOɹɹIW ƎH┴

WOOɹΛ WOOɹΛ

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