The stars still make the pattern they did when we were together.
They still shine brighter when I look up.
Guess somebody should tell them we're only history now.
They should know it's all gone
They should
@ amimoh
Think of this blog as a diary gone public; a mix of spilt ink, overthinking, and poetic chaos. I write what hearts whisper at 2 a.m., then pretend it’s art. Welcome to madness.
My little brother didn’t understand. He dragged a chair, stood on it, pressed his lips to the glass frame of the picture on the wall, and wh...
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