There are a million names listed on the board,
Space is small and it's written in a narrow order,
We are also million here searching in our name,
It's crowded like hell—but go apart like how I give chances to myself,
To not search you, to not let myself be suffocated for a hopeless felt,
And to not make efforts in a narrow order of love and mistakes.
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Pick Pinned
Poetrythese are my random poems about everything that were made of impossible diamonds and soft gems resembled as a realness of my poetic cloned emotions. whenever i'm busy handling my deep dive under the sea filled with stars and stripped of happiness a...
