Some days, I feel like I’m the only one left here, a sound of anxiety is too clear, whispering in my ear, floating softly in rays, helplessly dreary days, perfectly lost in trance, ferocious beasts collide to dance, escape no chance obsolescence, broken pieces of me reminiscence.
Some days, sadness is magically beckoning, voluntarily pursuing, constantly succeeding, dust particles sparkling like tiny specs of glitter galaxies of terrors shiver, storms ignite with chaos insecurities wondrous creating puzzle in a muzzle.
Some days, oh most of the days are falling apart and I can’t help it, the habit of endlessly dwelling the warmth of whiffing my soul.