Jan 11, 2020
There is a label in my forehead, a note written in my veins, from little my parent call me ... mark me... and now a days I believe that I am, whatever they call me, I am not I choose not to be.. my heart each when I remember. But if I want to heal, I have to travel to my past so I can heal. How should I love somebody that hurt me so much?, how can I even miss my home land when I was never happy there? How you get home aick? When home was what was making you sick..... I will heal even if it is the end of my days. Mother, Father, Father I have to forgive you because forget you didn’t work.