The blinking cursor waits in vain, A document that brings me pain. My clever brain, I must confess, Is lost in digital distress. A little chirp, a subtle hum, "Perhaps a new notification's come!" My fingers twitch, a reflex true, To see what fresh content is new.
Mtaybe moving on isn't about forgetting someone. Maybe it's learning how to live with the memories without letting them break youhat's when you miss them the most.
To live in a city ruled by a tyrannical king, poor and homeless with his parents who died when he was young and having to protect and raise his younger brother in such a cruel world but only for his brother to get hurt and have himself get executed all because of him.
Hate has a tricky way of convincing you that you’re holding a weapon against your enemy. In reality, you’re just drinking the venom yourself and waiting for th
i think death is very intimate, i do. if nature isn’t my course, i hope it’s you who kills me. i could trust you to see me. i could trust that you see me. you would see the right eyes in the memory of me. i want you to hold me when you do it. i