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an attempt at writing something with my emotions. |
| The white walls. The black book. The tearful drops on a lovely face. The crystal chandelair falls from the ceiling, crashing into the carpet forever not. A melancholy smile from which pain could be felt. I opened my eyes and saw a rope NOT meant for me. I never felt so alone with myself, falling to my knees. Misanthropy beneath the skin of the lonely. I felt the cold on my skin, yet the warmth of a chocolate brown coat. The snow falling from the sky. Looking through the frosty windows of a broken home. The shape of my anger forms the iridium star. The death i hoped for cannot be, the pain would be too much. I remain to suffer, as it should be. In spite of all the love, i feel so alone. I don't know what's wrong with me. A tattered soul, worn out already at a young age. |