People often ask me "Why are you such a good writer?" I reply with a simple statement; My heart has felt many things in which the human eyes can only dream of trying to see.
Most people don't know what it's like to hurt;
I mean to really hurt
Inside
To where your bones become fragile
And the veins that hold your blood
Become cold
To the skin that wraps around you;
A walking
Breathing
Vessel;
You suddenly become grey
Then there you are;
All alone
Left with nothing but your thoughts
With memories from as far as
You can remember
What better thing to do
Then write down the innovative thoughts
That is stored inside ones mind
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 5:16 PM UTC
People often ask me "Why are you such a good writer?" I reply with a simple statement; My heart has felt many things in which the human eyes can only dream of trying to see.
Most people don't know what it's like to hurt;
I mean to really hurt
Inside
To where your bones become fragile
And the veins that hold your blood
Become cold
To the skin that wraps around you;
A walking
Breathing
Vessel;
You suddenly become grey
Then there you are;
All alone
Left with nothing but your thoughts
With memories from as far as
You can remember
What better thing to do
Then write down the innovative thoughts
That is stored inside ones mind
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