25 is half of 50, yet half of my heart still goes missing.
Never to be revealed, never to be found.
The only clue to have is that little sound
Of breaking glass and bleeding wounds
Of crashing stones and dying wolves.
The tears to drop and lies that have been told.
Facing no oddity to fake the bravery.
YOU ARE READING
A Student's Diary
Não FicçãoDear diary, This is a book of my experiences written in shorter words, dialogue, and also known as, quotes. Although, most things here are the ones I've realized. :)
