This world throws you around like youre some kind of rag doll.
Rather that handling you with care it beats you and throws you around to see how long it takes before you hit the ground.
Some of us who are strong might manage to get back up to our feet with a few broken pieces and bruised fists.
And those few who manage to scrape together the courage to pick themselves back up, get up only to realize that it doesnt end there.
That was the first fall of many.
Youll fall everytime you get back up.
Youll get a little more broken and a little more tattered and torn with each blow and each lamding.
The world wont stop till you are completely destroyed.
And if they cant manage to destroy you theyll lock you up inside your head and give you enough time to destroy yourself.
We are our own worst enemies afterall.
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Chronicles Of Midnight
PoetryComposed of poetry and ideas and scenes from short stories that I probably wont write. A bunch of thoughts that might or might not make sense. #unorganized It gets better the further you read, so just keep reading or skip a few. Me.
