Breathe, my little peccadillo, breathe.
Your tenacity for life is stronger than your true purpose.
I hold you pressed to my chest to protect you from those judging eyes.
Don’t weep, little peccadillo, don’t weep.
You are my creation, and my personal transgression I will keep you.
No one knows of your existence, and your voice will not sound irrational as long as you stay close.
Through the discord and the joy you will sit in my heart and the forefront of my mind.
My sweet peccadillo.