"What is the reason why you live?" he suddenly asked.
"You don't have your parents to protect, friends to be with."
I stopped from sketching and looked at the sky.
"To die."
His forehead crease. "I don't understand."
"I live to die. That is my reason why I'm still breathing."
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Random Pieces
PoesíaA random thoughts written by a random girl with a random experiences.
