Apr 20
When the glass shattered that day,
all I could think was—please stop.
Later, it became—I hope the pieces fit back together.
And now, it’s—I pray they don’t break further.
The pain, you ask?
It’s still there.
Only now, the numbness is manageable.
all I could think was—please stop.
Later, it became—I hope the pieces fit back together.
And now, it’s—I pray they don’t break further.
The pain, you ask?
It’s still there.
Only now, the numbness is manageable.
It’s strange how, like the tide, things escalate and everything suddenly feels out of order. You can’t even process events as they unfold—you’re just left speechless. What once seemed simple becomes complicated and messy. So you pause to ask yourself: is this really reality?
Things break, and they make noise—some people notice, others just enjoy it, indifferent to the consequences for those caught in the middle.
And then there are the memories—strangely missed, yet forever trapped in a chapter, a part, a volume of my life that feels completely different from now.
Things break, and they make noise—some people notice, others just enjoy it, indifferent to the consequences for those caught in the middle.
And then there are the memories—strangely missed, yet forever trapped in a chapter, a part, a volume of my life that feels completely different from now.
