tears falling through the pain. rain falling down the pane.
Inside, you are weak.
in the middle of the wispy green was a canvas.
It has always been a reach to be who I am.
this thunderstorm takes hold of my soul. i see no more.
it doesn’t stop hurting just because you’re older.
under the wrath of disappointment, i am nothing but a wilting rose.
they think they are selfless.
these dreams ruin me. but they are the only thing keeping me alive.
what is life if you have nothing left to live for?