These hours are all mine and all void.
I write aimlessly,I love patiently and I detach myself wholeheartedly from both good and bad.The day is drawing to a close and so are the memories about sunny mornings,gorgeous boys and wasted time.
I choose to forget that I talk too much when I'm nervous or that I'm sometimes too afraid to be happy.
Music flows into my mind,while this lazy pen walks in miles of blue ink towards the future.My back aches because I've forgotten how to look pretty.It's hot like Hell in this room,but the voices on the hallway are way worse.
There's so much to be done that I can't bring myself to be productive-I'd rather bask in the glow of this mechanical chore and delay meeting face-to-face with reality once again.
Everything is so violently pink and pointless,there's no beauty left in here...
I wish it were last year.
One day,I'll learn how to count my blessings without letting them hurt me...
I write aimlessly,I love patiently and I detach myself wholeheartedly from both good and bad.The day is drawing to a close and so are the memories about sunny mornings,gorgeous boys and wasted time.
I choose to forget that I talk too much when I'm nervous or that I'm sometimes too afraid to be happy.
Music flows into my mind,while this lazy pen walks in miles of blue ink towards the future.My back aches because I've forgotten how to look pretty.It's hot like Hell in this room,but the voices on the hallway are way worse.
There's so much to be done that I can't bring myself to be productive-I'd rather bask in the glow of this mechanical chore and delay meeting face-to-face with reality once again.
Everything is so violently pink and pointless,there's no beauty left in here...
I wish it were last year.
One day,I'll learn how to count my blessings without letting them hurt me...
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