25/F/In My Own World Writing to stay alive. I'm nothing but a fool with a pen and a limited vocabulary
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I am forever walking a tightrope Between feeling nothing And feeling everything. I don’t know what’s worse, Drowning in a sea of endless despair Or never feeling the rain Cleanse my soul again.
He finds beauty In all of the ugliest corners Of my existence And trails kisses on my scars Sweetly, Tenderly. His lips plant flowers In the cracks of my skin Until nothing but beauty remains