life

mourn

tears sinking into aging skin.

someday, i will board the ferry, and greet charon with an obol and hopes of a fool

alive for sixteen, almost seventeen years.

hey, just a little tired today.

in my dreams, my art comes to life.

that is life, isn’t it? you know that you’ll die in the end, but you continue to live. why?

is the goal of life to succeed?

you left me to cry, swallowing my goodbyes.

the dead envy the living.

reflection of life fading away.