And if you ever feel so heavy, like a cloud that begins to wane, into the vilest kind of grey, you can always pour it all out – all the sheer drops of loneliness and solitude that you became. Even if it makes you a monster, an indomitable creature, just pour it all out. Even if you become something that you terribly loathe, just let it free; let it roll out of your throat in a tumultuous scream. For no matter what we do, we are all just humans, of bottled sunshine and perfect storms.
YOU ARE READING
Paper & Ink |#Wattys2016|
Poetry"I am the black on white; the ink on paper." A collection of my nightly thoughts and daydreams. Highest rank: #5 in Poetry. Please enjoy reading and find a friend in one of my works. :)
