Maybe I just don't want to admit to myself that things are actually falling apart. Maybe I just don't want to tell people how horrible things have been. I feel like I'm bleeding and dying but I couldn't die, I feel my existence is so rotten that flies are eating my eyes. Maybe things are a lot worse than it is but I'm covering it up with the facade that I'm alright and I am convinced by it. And yes it worked, but deep inside I know I'm not ok at all.
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I have found myself a home
Poetry🧸⃤ In the Kaleidoscope of wanting to be home, I have found myself a home in places I have been. The shade of colors found under streetlights, the thrills of joy in the shrieking of laughters by the side road. The love woven under fabricated happine...