im getting sick. of it all. the redundancy of hopeless folios piled up behind these closed doors hits me everytime. and now i stay awake, thinking what went wrong. all along.
mistakes are that faint scars still visible from this surface. i know. pain is good for the soul once in a while --- though i burn in it, it gives me a sense of power. it is synonymous to an elixir only with the hell tag.
it won’t take long for me to finally realize what is really of worth. i look around and i see how i’ve become and what has become of the girl i used to know.
different poles, living in one beat. we are wired that way. and sometimes, even if we don’t admit it, we thrive on that fact, just to survive…
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