Why are we so afraid to be all the things we want to be, of saying the words we want to say, of becoming the extraordinary miracles we were born to be? Why do we convince ourselves that it's okay to remain in one place when we are ever so capable to travel and reach the places our hearts yearn for, where our souls belong? Why do we let these desires in our hearts burn but let them die? How can we watch these dreams with our very own eyes fall into ashes on our very own hands? What is it that makes us fear so much? What is it that makes us feel so small and unworthy of anything good in this world? Why do we limit ourselves when we are, in fact, limitless?
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spilled ink
PoesíaJust a collection of random pieces of prose and poetry, all of which are originally written by yours truly. :)
