snippets

scattered short stories in a vast blanket of my darkness: writhing in pain with their collided star-studded melancholy, gasping for air with every hollowness of their skeletons, and raw wounds bleeding in golden hue. twist the knob and swim within the cauldron of battered voices. listen to the tales. drink the melodies by your unsung heart. stomp with rage from the bottled anguish. cry silently. howl a sorrow for skirts of drama. but mostly, fall and rise. on the side note, don't forget the staple of a smile.