May 21
bored, bored, bored
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Romania
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from Cayman Islands
seen from China
seen from Yemen
seen from China
seen from Canada
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Albania
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Russia
seen from Norway
seen from Russia
bored, bored, bored
My cries are louder than the burden I carry.
Ones inner turmoil and cries never cease to leave me in peace. The peace I ever so desperately crave runs further away from me than I ever could imagine
The darkness I run away from that's holding me back finds comfort within my walls. Your fingers are picking at my skin day to day with no fear for blood. The deeper your ever so sincere love digs within me the harder it is to find solace within the marshmallow softness of the world when all I'm used to is real love.
Love is hard.
Love is tough.
Love is a fight.
A never ending push and pull.
Running around in circles.
She loves me.
She loves me not.
Is she the reason for my despair?
Or am I using her, my dear muse, of course.
If I ever did fully love you and it was reciprocated in full could I ever imagine myself a writer?
What writer could I possibly be without you, my muse. My inspiration.