"We are poetically beautiful,
even we're vulnerable and broken."
This book contains of english poems and prose I've written for the past years until to this date. Some are short and some are quite long. I hope you enjoy reading my pieces!
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how many deep cuts, or pills, mishapㅡ or breakdowns, hysteria attacks, or tears; would it take to prove that people are like an oak tree? we look bold, valiant; strong on the outside but when a part of us snaps inside. there's nothing left but our blighting years.
the dark hallow lines of life grow in layers imprisoned within our vulnerable souls with seeds of loneliness and grief, spreading like ripples; overflowing like waves and bouncing back all at once.
in the end we are set alone by those people decided to leave and wipe off their feet. no strings, no holding back, yet the memories have not been erased. like a cerebrum, everything that has been experienced has been stored in these invisible scars though they can neither sing nor tell tales.
//. because we remember bad things than good ones (pcttro)
