27 is too young to be this cynical, yet too old to be so hopeful. Writing is the life blood that I can't be without.
Myth and legend tells us that a Phoenix is reborn, spreads its wings from the remnants of its former self. A beautiful idea, that when one cycle ends, another begins.
#100days #madhatter --- I broke my leg once, falling from a tree. When I hit the ground I felt a familiar crunch followed by an agonising wave of nausea and pain.
If I had more time I'd make more of this platform with so much potential to inspire me. What if I did have the time and I can't help but doubt myself?.
Every night I think about how I've climbed into a shell these past weeks and I can't find a valid reason for doing so. Unless you count betrayal or pain. Both are deadly with gut wrenching clarity.
I have had the most insanely busy few days, along will falling down the stairs at the weekend, but I vow to be more attentive to Opuss. It's going to be the place I feel most at home, I just know it..
Your lies are saccharine. Coloured with shades of blue. And your mind is so broke. You don't know what is true. The hurt that you cause. Is the cold bitter pill. It breaks in the stomach.
It only hurts for a moment, but the waiting draws a long line of agony through the folds of time..
It does not matter if I wave my arms above my head to snatch a moment in time from your eyes. Nor does it matter if the words don't come when you ask me why I fight it.
I sense this becoming a new addiction. The trouble is, I don't know where to start or how to connect..
Because every memory begins somewhere, right. Hello, and welcome to my mind..