His eyes were burning up just like the cigarettes he clung to, and his thoughts were soaking him up like kerosene, bringing up what he thought was over, overthinking stupid things that the tide brought to the surface.

The stars shine in the bright night like his scars do, disguised by his menacing tattoos. It's like he's becoming a work of art. The sunset was gone, and the moon shone above the ocean. "Life is a joke," Roy muttered in your shoulder, his hands sank in the sand.