My body aches when my heart started to break, and I guess this is too much to take.
I tried to escape but my mind and my soul is telling me, “My life will be at stake.”
I’m on the state of sobriety, and I ended up asking myself, “I guess I own part of the worlds anxiety.”
I tried to break the habit but I just can’t do it, I always miss the feeling of being high when my heart started to die.
Water from the eyes comes out with no reason, and then I realized that hatred was still trapped in my own prison.
I noticed a blood came out from my pen, I saw her face, and then I decided to write the chapters again.