It's always sweet in the beginning. Like every pink, cheaply-produced candies that starts melting the moment it touches your tongue, no matter how hard you try to savour it.
It's always pretty to look at, but I'm too tired to take notice of it anymore, blocking it all out as if I had tunnel vision when in reality, I don't even concentrate on anything.
It's always the same, familiar smell emitting from it. One that everyone knows comes from the chemicals and not the real thing itself, because it's cheaper that way, but it's always sweet.
Sweet as always.
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A few sentiments
PoetryEverything is in shambles, but that's just how it is with nonsense writings. It contains (very) short stories, poetry, and just words in general that are strung together and might or might not hold some meaning. Basically anything my sleep deprived...
