sometimes i get mad
i can't control it
a fire starts in my heart;
slowly creeping to my mind
pulling it apart
i can't see
everything has been blinded by
this immeasurable
heat
heat sounds a lot like heart
for that we aren't very lucky
because most of the time they work
hand in hand
just to work against us
and wake up our darkest dreams
just so the heat can light it up.
YOU ARE READING
my happy was you.
Поэзияit's poetry. it kinda puts you in your feels like r.h. sin, but some uplifts you. there's also some short stories, if you're into that. there are some trigger warnings, so if TW pops up, you know why (this desc. is probably going to be edited later)
