There’s this person. This person who looks through a glass and sees a reflection, intrested in knowing more on what it were to say if spoken to. Spoken to since no one ever spat to the man, who had accumulated more grief than one experiencing lost. As it was he’d never gotten the chance to find any significance in what’s ..emotion swallowing up the ability to pursue what you want never intrigued. A mind that needed knowledge to help time tick. Walking up to the glass he realizes that white cracks lying in between red rock. Turning around to see a girl staring at him…her face is odd. As if she’s willing to graze the scars and relay a diagnosis on how sick his mind actually be. But the drum that bangs in the brain keeps on ringing in his ears til there’s no longer a want that sulks inside his tummy. Devoured by acids and pills needed to live without feeling what he can’t know is forreal given the experience with feeling the healing emotions can bring and the pain they are associated with is just a big block of red rock to him… on a wall and no indication of what is, without attempts to break through.
Dear love, People Judge.
Period. There’s no one in this world who won’t whether that judgement is good or bad. It could be based on your circumstance, or you appearance, religion, or associates.
I just want to tell you not to worry too much.
And that I’m sorry for the shortness but, I assumed you expected a piece from me this week, as school has been getting really hectic and I’m super duper tired most days on my return home… I wish you guys the best till next time…
Type ya laters
~ love wordyqueen