"liabilities" poems
* *To lessen liabilities,
to lower costs and
make the world more,
more productive; exacting...*
*To make everything easier,
a life more fulfilling...
...more predictable, perhaps,
more equal than now.*
*To eliminate sadness,
anger, depression, anxiety.
To work less at everything,
they will do it all for me.*
The planet will be saved by the extirpation of human activity...
...for who needs humans to trade stock?
...who needs humans to make widgets?
...who needs humans to clean things?
Who needs humans at all?
Sep 4, 2017
Sep 4, 2017 at 11:05 AM UTC
Picnic
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
My friends laugh elsewhere on the beach
while I sit here, alone, counting the waves,
writing and rewriting your name in the sand ...
Confession
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Your image overwhelmed my vision.
As the long nights passed, I became obsessed with your visage.
Then came the moment when I quietly placed my lips to your picture ...
Rain
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Why shiver alone in the rain, maiden?
Embrace the one in whose warming love your body and mind would be drenched!
There are no rains higher than the rains of Love,
after which the bright rainbows of separation will glow with the mysteries of hues.
My Body's Moods
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I long for the day when you'll be obsessed with me,
when, forgetting the world, you'll miss me with a passion
and stop complaining about my reticence!
Then I may forget all other transactions and liabilities
to realize my world in your arms,
letting my body's moods guide me.
In that moment beyond boundaries and limitations
as we defy the conventions of veil and turban,
let's try our luck and steal a taste of the forbidden fruit!
Moon
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
All of us passengers,
we share the same fate.
And yet I'm alone here on earth,
and she alone there in the sky!
Vanity
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
His world is so simple, so very different from mine.
So distinct—his dreams and desires.
He speaks rarely.
This morning he wrote: "I saw some lovely flowers and thought of you."
Ha! I know my aging face is no orchid ...
but how I wish I could believe whatever he says, however momentarily!
Keywords/Tags: Perveen Shakir, Urdu, translation, Pakistan, love, passion, picnic, beach, vision, confession, rain, rainbow, hues, forbidden fruit, body, *** orchid, mrburdu
What the Poet Sees
by Michael R. Burch
What the poet sees,
he sees as a swimmer
~~~underwater~~~
watching the shoreline blur
sees through his breath’s weightless bubbles ...
Both worlds grow obscure.
Published by ByLine, Mandrake Poetry Review, Poetically Speaking, E Mobius Pi, Underground Poets, Little Brown Poetry, Little Brown Poetry, Triplopia, Poetic Ponderings, Poem Kingdom, PW Review, Neovictorian/Cochlea, Muse Apprentice Guild, Mindful of Poetry, Poetry on Demand, Poet’s Haven, Famous Poets and Poems, and Bewildering Stories
May 17, 2020
May 17, 2020 at 11:29 PM UTC
Income is an intangible,
Taxes are an intangible,
Neither exists right now,
Only the promise of it in the future...
That's what credit is... a bet against a promise.
Which means all of nothing,
since it hasn't happened yet,
all credit is risk of one degree or another,
...based on tolerance or gumption.
If all people are, "risky,"
then all credit is risk,
none can be more credit-worthy;
less risky...
So why not turn future liabilities into income,
instead of future income into a liability?
Hmm...
Impossible?
Yeah, ...since anything that gives ordinary people power must be impossible. Jesus must not believe in individual power. The Founding Fathers must not have believed in individualism. No, ...only the state backed by a selected wealthy few should determine everyone's fate by economy.
Only a few should have it all....
...no opportunity for anyone else; the weak, poor, untalented, ugly, simple, ordinary, dumb, handicapped; those ones don't matter.
Just NFL players count.
Only singers and actors count.
Only bankers and doctors matter.
Jesus would agree.
Makes so much sense?
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 11:58 PM UTC
I'm one of the optimistic person you'll ever meet
In the realistic world ever existing
I will lay all possible cards from the
Beginning 'til the end with the options
Chances & risk
Unfortunately, the negative thoughts
Keeps on flushing me down
Drowning all the positive ones
Once, it was all ocean full of positivity
The next thing, its a puddle swallowed
By the soil of liabilities
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 10:10 AM UTC
*
This is being referred as qualitative summary of a person’s
spiritual conditions at the final point of a life time,
including his moral values, spiritual liabilities
and the net worth as assets
in his or her Holiness or Godliness.
This is shown at the left column.
The first part of the life’s balance sheet shows
all the sinful deeds or belongings.
The second part shows all
the bountiful gracefulness as liabilities.
This is shown at the right column.
This is also called as the statement of condition
of a person while on his last and
final confiscation or end of life.
Both left and right columns should match
or tally to qualify for a life in the next world.
*
BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
[email protected]
www.williamsji.com
www.williamsgeorge.com
www.williamsmaveli.com
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 4:36 AM UTC
I have a dream! I have a dream,
To the racial discriminators, said Martin Luther King,
I have a dream! I have a dream!
To the evil-creating economists, I warn and ring.
Globe witness hunger, inequality poverty and unemployment
The world turns out to be bitter,
To all of you, I write this letter.
To create a world relieved from these and turn better.
I am a mad aspiring economist, a fool,
Searching for the right tool,
You turned the world with full of mess,
People are left with nothing less.
To the world, you gave theories,
Pushed us into a vicious cycle of injuries,
About your theories, you boasted,
It has created a few ruling and bloated.
Most of you worked as economic hitmen,
Turned victim laymen to fighting gunmen.
To the realities, your theory is distant,
Served no solution to the dying peasants,
To the few, we remain a psychological slave and servants,
Tuned our lives to a depended migrant.
With your development lecture,
You have killed the entire nature,
In the name of ventures, corporates turned vulture,
Hunted and looted our generations’ future.
We lived a self-reliant community,
You killed us with imposed liability,
Our lives are now placed in intensive casualty,
The word that remains imagination still is equality.
We lost our humanity and identity,
In your eyes, we are just a market and commodity,
Your play with scarcity, was a mere futility,
We finally became a society, filled with atrocity.
Your useless lectures of development,
Put us under frightening & irrecoverable unemployment,
For a few, you got us into a deep-rooted enslavement,
So, now for you instead, we make a replacement.
To my questions, you neglected and ran,
In your eyes, I am foolish stupid common man,
To you short-sighted range,
I say I will bring in a change!
Today, I may remain lower and mere viewer,
A day will come, where you will stand to answer,
Writing a new rule, I would seize your beloved positions,
This will be my lifetime mission and ambition.
I say with all my limited experience,
I will put a test to all your conscience,
Are you just a fat-big corporate’s hand?
With people will you always stand?
I am not an economist,
I am neither an egotist,
I proclaim! I proclaim!
I am a revolutionary economist,
I know you will fit me a label,
I am sure I will be an economic rebel,
A rebellious economist.
I dream a world without huge inequalities,
I dream a world free from imposed liabilities,
I dream a world without poverty and disparities,
I finally dream for becoming an economist with no ambiguities.
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 7:43 AM UTC
The two doctors remained busy,
Professional lives & societal liabilities,
They had much to look after including drinks.
They did not care even a bit for the only child,
Professional calls for societal nursing,
The two ignored their daughter.
She sent an email to her father,
It said that she had enjoyed it once,
And she won't refrain herself having it again.
And reading the mail her parents were angry,
Father forgot relations & killed her,
Mother tried tampering proofs.
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 11:24 PM UTC
These Saturn stones
filled up your bones.
the quiet moon, gently cries.
the sun's many liabilities.
your lies soar like spirit wings
how you've fed your lies onto this ring.
the seeds burst into the earth's ground
let me hear your inner sounds.
i want to see the sprouts
for i...
will in doubt.
can't wait until
you start.
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 1:32 AM UTC
It’s good to be hated! But I know my name…
hate, blackened, misshapen, ugly, unnatural,
yet
how it clarifies the mind, like a cupped hand
carrying clear, cold, brook water to dry mouth,
to shock, enliven, resets resets, all your priorities
with alacrity, a word I prefer cause it is an intuitive
combo of eagerness + alarm, suddenly much of the
trivial is no longer worthy of your ‘to do’ list,
you, without thinking, DNA filter your filters,
those screens that digest, then reject & reflect
the inputs ongoings around you, and you are now
reclassified! by the hate surrounding, it declassifies
the time wastrels, reinterpreting most everything
on a bipolar scale of 1 or 10, there are no shades,
the middle ground of gray be fully eliminated,
just like those who wish to
eliminate
me.
in a palette of black or white, your
e +e,
(essence and existence) cannot be ever
a gray area, yes, of course, the sunshine
is yellow bright, and the grass is spring
flushed green, the multicolored daffodils
newly define colors varietal, and the waves
of the Sound, roll relentlessly, but hate can be
coated, camouflaged and subtle disguised, but
we know, oh how we know, and how we wanted
to ***forget, our “sins”, our original liabilities of
our multi colored skins, our religion, our race & ethnicity,***
but NOT our names!
the Rabbis tell us that God nearly did not keep
his promise to Abraham, to rescue his progeny
from slavery in Egypt but saved them only because:
‘On account of four things Israel was redeemed
from Egypt: they did not change their names, they
did not change their language, they did not speak
slander and not even one of them was found to be
promiscuous.’^
I know my name; and though you cannot distinguish
me by dress, know not my moral life, but now you
know my name,
given to me by my parents, in the language of my ancestors:
Mordecai Netanel ben (son of) Eliyahu Chaim
Per my family lore, as told to me by my parents, our
family fled from Spain because of the Inquisition (1478),
settled in a small town in Germany on the banks
of the river Lippe; and from the shtetls of Poland,
and those who survived or avoided the Holocaust
ultimately left Europe, came here, to the land of
the free, the United States of America with names,
in their language, with memories intact.
I will not flee this country,
for I know my true name,
inscribed in my pores, in my
DNA
<>
(but should I have to…there is a sanctuary.)
May 2 2024
May 2, 2024
May 2, 2024 at 9:24 PM UTC
I have just love for you dear,
Done I am with my advising,
Be confident and calm in life,
Now just confidence remains,
Don't stay cool and calm now,
You perform well when angry,
Just keep in mind some words.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 7:21 AM UTC
I knew that it was always there, only about a block away
The Ocean
I could see the Single Ferry sailing with piles of wooden boxes
my colleague whisper to me
“Those are cadavers inside those crates: heading toward
Hart Island Potter’s field project
to the unknown graves.
The seagulls and the wild birds enjoy the ***** sandy
While taking in the early sunshine here in Coney Island
I remember a long time ago, when I had the sea fever
I would walk bare feet in the sand, and tossed small pebbles in the ocean
Rex my dog, would chase the seagulls and wild birds away
As he enjoy his morning walk with me
The cool breeze would massages my face and the hot sun
Would quickly dry up the salty vapors,
which made my soul rejoice each time we took that stroll
along the white sandy beaches on the Island of Bim
Seeing with the eyes of a poet’s is a gift
my thoughts, and my unusual language,
The world sees us poet and author as liabilities
A true emotional poet has a way of making you believe that the
“Sky is falling,
so he or she may suggests that you prop up sky with the clouds
What’s in a word, besides noun and verbs and adjectives?
A poet’s heart, and they emotional torrent
So once again the sky is falling
While the rain turn to sleet ice pellets
A poet ways of seeing the beauty of it all
Through her work
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 10:44 AM UTC
..somehow a worldwide trading system on future emissions worked?
What if we changed, "industry," with, "humanity?"
What if a trading-credits system existed for individual income tax against future projected earnings?
Al Gore was wrong...
Imagine being out of work and gaining credits against future tax liabilities?
...by working for a charity
IS THE MONEY REAL? DOES IT EXIST BEFORE YOU MAKE IT?
If you are a CCX member trading on Wall Street then; YES!
Why should all finance be about struggle and not about love or charity?
DO YOU AGREE WITH CONSTANT STRUGGLE?
THE CENTRAL BANK PRINTS MONEY FROM NOTHING...
Americans can do anything;
...because we control the production of, "money."
"Money...."
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 12:15 AM UTC
Do you remember that date,
It was 27 April the year '13,
And it was really very late.
We had a communication-gap cropped-up,
An unavoidable communication-gap it was,
Some misunderstandings had cropped-up.
Though both had our respective liabilities,
I had been overtly angry much to your fears,
I'm still sorry for what I said had brought tears.
I had lamely prophesized in anger,
When we had a no-fun word-war,
I had said very dramatically,
That you'll be married,
Exactly 7 years, 7 months & 7 days later.
Even you yourself were upset at that time,
And we didn't talk for many days.
You felt cheated & even I felt scandalized.
We knew that this tiff will have to end one day,
So we sub-consciously thought we'd test ourselves.
Maybe we knew that it'll end someday if not that day.
Because we are like our favourites Tom & Jerry,
Fighting very seriously but loving all the way along,
So probably that too is an indispensable part of love!
We have laughed it over and left that tiff back,
But hey that prophecy must come true!
Not at all like that you should worry about it,
About having to marry somebody else,
It will be me only who marries you!
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 7:31 AM UTC
Let our life, be an Accounts ledger
birth is it’s first opening balance,
death, of course the closing balance
Intelligence is your assets (Right col.)
foolishness, worthless ideas, liabilities (left col.)
Heart beats are the current assets
soul seems to be permanent assest
Brain is your permanent Investment
valuable thoughts are current A/C
gaining success are like stock & trade
Friends are your general reserves
Good behavours, Interest accumulated
Love & affection, your profit,
divided by 50% as below:-
Affection is gross profit,
Love, surely net profit
children are earned bonus
education is your brand name
Qualification the patent
Knowledge is investment
work experience is premium account
The balance sheet should be equal
to be tallied on both sides of life
without any errors.
By Williamsji Maveli
Email:[email protected]
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 9:53 PM UTC
The unbearable pain of rejection
We've all experienced this at least once
As if you're placed in a freezing plane
Bare, alone, and insane
Your heart is dissected
Cut into bits and pieces
Open and infected
What's going on?
I thought I had it figured out
Not an ounce of doubt
A steady foothold
With a heart unable to mold
The inability to control your emotions
Running high and proud
Yet you're the coward that suffers
An infatuation like no other
I mean you're at this blind
Someone captures your insecurities and will make you unwind
The lies, the false promises
Not to mention their accomplice, you.
Already aware of all liabilities
Left to rot with wonder of endless possibilities.
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 4:28 PM UTC
Desperately grabbing on to imaginary safety, hoping that maybe
just maybe, they'll save me.
This is no virtual reality, but it's hard to see reality when the fast pacing of ghosts and goblins are racing to neglect you as if you weren't ever here, to begin with...
This endless stress I'm feeling is a confession of my LACK of pity
because I feel like it's fitting for this circular way of ending
Spinning in this pattern
Fending for myself on an endless pasture
Demons and shadows, I call those the normal
Opposing humanity that lacks reality
Blinded by the constant wall we bring together
Formally restraining the legs, because we think it's better
"What's the weather"
A constant concoction of tales and tallies for the repeating day
Like a feather, the weight of these lifeless questions couldn't keep the ocean at bay
"What else is there to say"
It's not about what you say that will matter anyway,
Although the power of words is often underestimated,
Keep in mind whom invests in you and what you say,
For those will be you're biggest assets and liabilities.
But if you insist, say what you value, and value what you say,
Because your actions will amount to what comes from them at the end of the day,
Constantly tiptoeing over words like an *** drunk and stumbling over grass
We value the past, abusing it until we've drained it of any real mass it once had, excusing what we do, based upon the past
Forgetting that the past is so close yet fastly becoming the last player in this race in time,
What kind of journey must we take to pick what we say, what we do, what we feel, what we value,
giving our value to ourselves, excusing someone else's hell and making it about an experience that we still dwell on,
our experience
forgetting the rotating reality around us never really rotated around us, but it around it, around it, which we are apart of, silently sending chaos into its sight as we see fit
fright...we should feel because this multiple concoction of words is really a riddle, hidden message, pleading for safety, which may never come, fiddling my thumbs as I write this passage,
Paving a plea that may one day be seen and actually pondered...
Or maybe left, neglected, as expected, not graced even lightly with another soul's wonder.
Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 4:36 PM UTC
¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯
. . . of incantations in
cantankerous philosophy!
Of these lying liabilities,
what startling objection, so accosting,
has exhausted me? More so than
named quite unfortunate atrocity!
Shall hordes of thought be accursed
by degrees of displeasing hostility
such that satiated curiosity
be evermore abashed in me?
“. . . but I have admonished thee,”
said he,
this subtle, blackened tenant
with a tin man's tonality.
This paper drum that bends to sing
does beg of him the courtesy;
yet, acrid rhetoric singes the hair
with unfavorable flintlock fidelity.
His evasive guarantee then
upends the pores relentlessly.
*“These words will compel a poor
foresight to bleed in the fray
as cascading tears cast their weight
upon cheek in dismay . . .”*
. . . to quash the cypress toxin
of a caustic potpourri—
a dissembling toupee
to one's balding reality.
O lasting opacity
of such poignant translucency,
this flagrant serendipity,
once spawned, must always be?
Possibly; though, I cannot count
how many sets see dawns at sea.
“. . . but I have astonished thee,”
said he
through this Möbius rebuttal
like some soap on TV,
though, it’s ne'er some rerun
what’s cliché wants creativity.
The veiling lee of his lofty marquee
beclouds that one pyrrhic mystery—
that now-clandestine oblation
of one bless'ed unanimity.
*“Akin to a twin whose soul’s
one sin was mine to portray.
‘I’ll pay ne’er a thought!’
curs’ed common naïveté . . .”*
. . . and yet, that's cause to bend
reverent knee, not to thee,
but to that which mine
eye's sole endeavor is to see.
“So, leave me be!”
I lament, ostensibly,
“Lest that passage fall paved
by none other than me.”
Perhaps the Second World war
is just my cup of tea.
“. . . or perhaps this darkness is me,”
said he
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 5:00 PM UTC
screams of systematic repetition
tuned to the key of C
rejuvenating the pulse
of the pulp on the floor
I found the time space continuum
on my back porch swing
stepping toward the screeching sirens
revealing the past scene by scene
Timing the sun in wrist-watch format
the liabilities not mine
the doormat said "welcome"
you catch my eyes glaring,
hastily waiting for your tears to run
your feet follow in suspended motion
Gunning for the hallway laundry chute
only to find the triggers on safety
the notion alone is enough
resetting the sun dials
with steady hands of anxiety
attacking the knobs at their fastens
My subtle brutality breaks
as
I awake on the kitchen floor
while the screeching of the sirens pull me in
Jun 30, 2011
Jun 30, 2011 at 9:16 AM UTC
Rakhi-
The thin invisible thread ties you to my heart
Although we are far away,
You're remembered on special day!
Rarely we meet,
Occasionally I greet!
Infrequent visits,
But the bond exists.
Occupied with liabilities,
You figure last in the priorities!
Since ages, the thread not tied,
Everytime, the plan not materialized.
Feeling sad for absence in your needs,
But deep inside my heart bleeds.
Nothing else I could say,
For your wellbeing, I just pray!
Understand! I am for apart,
But a thin thread ties you to my heart!
Aug 7, 2017
Aug 7, 2017 at 12:14 AM UTC
You imagine yourself to be the thickest tree
Streaming flourishly with bright green feathers
Down your arms into your wonderous oak, so free
Is where you imagine your polished banters
Dreams like fantasies, dancing in the wind
Swaying to a rhythmic, yet succulent beat
We all fall victim to its lure, in our mind
That which we follow appears only in the heat
We imagine ourselves like we're singular, alone
The voices around are calling, yelling for our release
In a melodic manner, the most beautiful tone
We can't break from our cells, but we can keep the peace
Our knowledge may seem futile, like a useless tool
That won't take us any closer to our freedom
But we will rise up, our hope is no fool
That which we know, will only increase our wisdom
Others believe in the purity of our hallowed earth
The secrets of our hidden pleasures
From the beginning, its noble birth
We've been greedily hoarding the treasures
From the reserviors of our fate, have we foretold
We are responsible, and follow our liabilities
Knowing nothing by the time we grow old
That which is young has endless possibilities
Jan 19, 2010
Jan 19, 2010 at 10:07 PM UTC
*
Let our life, be an Accounts ledger
birth is it’s first opening balance,
death, of course the closing balance
Intelligence is your assets (Right col.)
foolishness, worthless ideas, liabilities (left col.)
Heart beats are the current assets
soul seems to be an intangible asset
Brain is your permanent Investment
valuable thoughts are current A/C
gaining success are like stock & trade
Friends are your general reserves
Good behaviors are Interest accumulated
Love and affection, your maximum profit,
divided by 50% as below:-
Affection is gross profit,
Love, definitely net profit
children are earned bonus.
education is your brand name
Qualification is the patent
Knowledge is secured debentures
work experience is premium account
The balance sheet should be equal
and to be tallied on both sides of life
without any errors.
*
BY WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
Email:[email protected]
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 11:20 PM UTC
Right now my life is going places that I can't even describe.
I couldnt wish better than this, I earned this cause I tried.
I earned this cause my work is hard, and my words are quite sincere.
For poetry has been my life, and my dream for many years.
And even in my writing you can see a drastic change..
'Cause I dropped liabilities, and im writing free of rage.
The letters flow with passion that's descirbed by love and grace,
a way to take my anger and put greatness in its place.
A way of life I'll make of this, and I'm headed on that track.
So if I loose some "friends" that's fine, I still won't dare look back.
Maturity comes gradually, everyone learns this in time.
And I don't judge, or hold a grudge, but that show's ive done the climb.
I've grown into a woman that can over come some pain,
'cause see these words i write today from pain will be my gain.
Inspiration has many forms, I just harness it with rhyme.
No matter what the outcome, I know my writing will be prime.
See money isn't the goal I crave, but recongnition at it's best.
For life has put me through qutie a huge amount of tests.
But each one that is thrown at me has faded in the past,
cause one thing that i know is that my writing will always last.
So be happy for everything youve said to break me down.
For all your words will make my work easier than it sounds.
For every single hater, an artist will be born.
And every page they write, will live longer than your scorn.
So thank you for my wisdom, and thank you for your hate.
And thank you oh so ******* much, for making my life great.
Feb 29, 2012
Feb 29, 2012 at 8:03 AM UTC
Up to the limit
As they wish those bad things
Dreams haunting at mornings
Yes I dodged with excuses
Pushing to the limits
Yes I bailed out from a job
Hesitated to work
Just a hunch for liabilities to come
Only for this time
Hustling for the next time
Hope there is a next time
Like in queues over me
Though I need a lifting
Lifting Myself
Up to the limit
Jun 29, 2018
Jun 29, 2018 at 9:51 AM UTC
I will always be a monster.
Life sentences you harshly of an existence without clarity,
Without rarity, and with an all-encompassing scrutiny.
What becomes of a man who was blessed by the light,
Only to learn that his shadow grew far bigger?
What becomes of a beast that was tamed, a bird of hermes,
What of the heart that was shattered on its day?
Defeated, unbecoming and undeserving of love,
That is what a monster eventually becomes,
If I were to shout about the calamities,
Empires would line up to deny the atrocities,
Proving once and for all that it all fell under liabilities,
For when a monster begets a conscious,
It tears his soul apart,
Yet only those who revel in darkness,
Can truly cast it aside,
And when I shout from the mountain tops:
Do you not see what I've done?
Do you not see that it is I who suffers?
The light whispers: what of me and my tale?
Why is it that I see you moving like a snail?
To which the darkness responds: I cannot change after all,
If after moving mountains and worlds you believe so,
If after all that I've endured and sacrificed,
If after all this time, it was you I hurt the most,
Then it is true. I will always be a monster.
Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 5:48 PM UTC