I was raised as a dreamer.
I dreamed of things that are impossible to exist.
I dreamed of events I wish would happen to me.
But then they said that its too much and I need to stop.
They didnt know that the dreamer inside me died that night,
And that my hollow body tried to glue back the pieces of my soul.
YOU ARE READING
Waves of Pain
PoésieWhen pain is too much, write it on a peice of paper. Or anything close to paper.
