• _breathe__ 109w

    I abominate to concede that
    "I ain't congenial with the my survival"
    Because seeing people not to know,
    What needs to be done leaves me impotent,
    So quietude helps but the dire need of
    Cosiness still curls up at the doorstep.

    I cover my body with a thick cloth,
    To assure if the wind doesn't touches it,
    The aroma of rain at night
    does not arrives at my heart in the midnight,
    To warrant that I am just a stranger
    to the fireflies who are the most closest creatures
    I can feel with myself,
    Because it's possible for the world turns good,
    Good in the sense,
    Butterflies can come and stick to our hair,
    Without startling from the consequences,
    The water in seas and oceans can turn clean,
    With a huge bright and placidic aquatica,
    Yes, we can walk barefoot on the roads.

    But, in turn the hades blesses his ray,
    And the Athena inside me cops to give up,
    My anxiety forms a loophole with my blood,
    And the wolf of my tenderness shrinks away,
    Because I have destroyed, betrayed, and
    Suppressed myself from getting love,
    Just because of nothing,
    And the beast of evil, nurtures in my body,
    A mean and a girl with unknown dimensions of hatred,
    For it was all about less pain, not happiness.

    Yet, I sit at the roof after pouring ,
    7 buckets of toxic water at my place,
    Take a diary of torn pages in my hand,
    And gaze the shooting stars,
    Because they're my fate,
    And one day, whole of them are gonna
    Crush my soul and burn those pages,
    One day, the day when I will be the sky,
    And receive the love and attention I wished,
    After wearing a red lip color
    and a fansy dot on my glabella.

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    I was a cynic, but the tenacity of frigidaire accelerated my star.