I’m mad to exhaustion. I’m mad in the most useless sense. Like I was starved from anger and hold on to the first spark on dear life. And I fed. Against my will I fed. Like a savage I fed. Always as a cold burn. My body rejecting violently.
Phobia of getting things out. Phobia of seeing flesh from within. The spark became wild fire. But does anger matter when no one gets hurt ? Does it exist without any sound ?
I watched hell’s sunset and tried to move on. Well I can’t give my back to the only light on the way. You know which one. The flame who takes a century to die. Living out of spite and keep me watching, heavy eyelids, just hungry and humbled enough. I back down to the usual, disappointed. I always come back hoping to love fog a bit more.
- Nana, Hell's sunset
I can't sleep so I wrote something
“ But does anger matter when no one gets hurt ? Does it exist without any sound ? “ this. idk how you managed to capture such a raw and visceral emotion and put it into words like that. it has to be one of my all time favourite lines of yours. ♥