23 ● 05 ● 16
There is no hope once you've encountered the massive chaos crashing down on you, tall walls made of your failures.
You can feel the crash and asunder of your flaws, seeping into your veins as streams of insecurities drip down your face, the metallic smell of blood filling your lungs when you breathe into the havoc you created.
It feels like, it is, the whole world crashing onto you.
The walls will come down.
And they will see your imperfections.
YOU ARE READING
Summer Thoughts
PoetryFragments from my mind in written form which I either think of at the darkest hour of night or during an afternoon meal of only 45 chicken nuggets.
