isn't strange? that even our hearts carrying these sad and lonely feelings, they keep beating normally without even skipping a beat at once?
our hearts are so strong but our souls can break easily and it will break and shattered into pieces but never die, but it will create scars that are so visible that anyone can see but it don't matter to them until their soul breaks too and their voices will haunt us calling for help as if they came for us to help when we needed them?
isn't strange? that even our souls keep breaking and shattering into pieces, we're still here living?
YOU ARE READING
My Dream Wisteria: Prose and Poetry
Poetrywe learn and grow, we were born to die. so i'll take this moment to write, as the wisteria grow inside.
