I find I can never pour anything out.Why is it so?There is this knot which unables me to tell my truth to another.
Every idea I have is made up but not what I invent.Every desire I have is not what I want.I cannot truly be,I cannot exist,why am I fated for unknown eternity?I have so many secrets and locked rooms that not even I can open.
I guess I am made to be liquid.I guess I should stop trying to freeze my heart and mind on one thing.
Maybe one day I will be able to be true to myself.
Maybe one day,all this pain will swim away.
Maybe one day I will be able to love.
Maybe one day I will exist for someone and they won't condemn me.
Maybe that day will never come,but maybe I will be comfortable with this cold,bitter river that I am.
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VOUS LISEZ
Orquidea
SpirituelBloodbathed Orchid A book in which I'll include some of my views on the world,and try to include how trauma can affect a person,in this story, I'll inflict myself upon my oc Orquidea No idea where I'm going,hopefully not too disappointing