we beg for black holes to
swallow us without ever
knowing that we are a
black hole in ourselves
we let the future decide
our present and we
let the past rule our future
never living a day freely
we are an entangled mess
not wanting to be free
yet fighting for freedom
freedom we call death.
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Ink Stuff
PuisiA drop of ink defines thousands of memories and millions of emotions. Cover by: Desi_damsel
