There was this boy once, who told me that my eyes reminded him of the ocean.
But my eyes aren't blue. And for the longest time, I believed I was someone who had nothing more to offer than storms and shipwrecks.
Everyone joined in on the war, and I was left with failure the shape of missiles clogging up my throat. I had oil spills turn me blacker than night sky. It was the first in a lifetime that birds didn't fly. And no matter how many times the rain comes, I can't be rid of this filth. And it turned my stomach into a battleground with wounded soldiers' and dead soldiers' footprints engraved into the soft earth like those were sufficient enough evidence of life once lived.
- Comment and like for me to update more. Thanks!(:
