Writing between the lines . Here's my story, One at a time
Some days you get upYou breathe You take that sigh of reliefWondering what a horrid dream it wasBut reality hits harder than pride…
While we’re struggling with our own insecurities And untapped apparently evident potential While we’re struggling to make sense of every puzzle piecethat everyone around us seems to understand with easeWhile we’re trying to fit in with everyone’s idea of normal And trying to climb the bandwagon of…
Child, there shall be days you would trade your love for blades And nothing would do justice To the severity of your rage There shall be…
How many colours can you recognize And count them all too? Which ones would you choose To paint a picture of you
We move mountains only to knowthat we might beat another rock bottomWe wait for another lost shipto rescue our forsaken soulsWe wish for late night walkswith someone, we can call our own