Enshackled
Is this all it seems, of all the mundane stuff, of all the nonsense, laying, breathing, barely, of what is stated, for now are below average, nothing extraordinary only below average. for she was sleepless, for six years, emotionless, for all has been lost turning to the ghost of her nightmares to breath once again in that mundane past where everything seem all damn right promises of a better tomorrow is it ever coming, to see the sun rise above the clouds and to see dusk fall, the moonlit once more for these eyes have seen lost lost into what oblivion the treacherous now imprisonedbecause it hurts
to see you
hurt
Labels: Another day thinking