Lonleyhiraeth قصص

Living and existing. One day at a time. The struggles that painted the creased lines of her face, the tears that burned deep streaks along her brown skin and the racing beat of her heart that grew louder and louder every second that went by. Now those seem to look and sound like the saddest and ugliest parts of her. The parts that nobody wants to fix, put back together of even think about. But they were the parts that, quite literally, wrote stories, sentences lasting for lifetimes only to continue with another one. It was that brokenness, those sentences and everything in between that created the art of her.