I don't know how much I lived, I just know the time of my birth,
I don't know how much I loved, I just know the time it stopped
YOU ARE READING
existence within earth
PoetryPoetry in words of a mess, written throughout years of my teenage angst that continues. "Shall wisdom and hell be spoken when my ink turns into blood"
t w e n t y e i g h t
I don't know how much I lived, I just know the time of my birth,
I don't know how much I loved, I just know the time it stopped
