Carried thoughts escaping intertwined fingers. Buried in the oceans of gold and warmth. The dunes stretching for miles in leagues of glistening tones. Lost memories in search for a way to survive by keeping one in such a state. Howling echoes of yesterday marching through the gusts of winds. Finding one’s skin pierced by such
Swift tales spun to see behind broken dreams. Promises of what once was. Empty lines through skies stretched by infinite time. Or so was said til space showed its face. Phased history now carried through the sands of time. Deserted oceans tearing a broken ship. Eternity held by stars till death finds its orbit. Dragging
I’ve found that a good portion of our lives is spent within our minds. Not a day goes by where we are not in our heads. We contemplate the world around us. The situations we face are fluttering around and caught by our emotions. We remain locked in what feels to be an eternal struggle,
Imagine staring at you reflection for hours just to see the brokenness wasn’t the mirror but yourself. You begin to put the pieces in their proper place. But it still has cracks you would think? It may, but these cracks no longer define you. I’ve spent a good portion of my life looking out and
Where does it all end? The same things over and over again as if it was played out to be an exact copy. People find comformance and tolerance in such a routine schedule. Yet for me it is only increasing my anxiety. I don’t know entirely what is happening with me. It is not the
