It’s not something you can clearly communicate to others about how you feel. Most times we act like we don’t even feel it. We smile like we are alright but deep down there’s something like a knife slicing your insides. We all know they’ll be healing for every pain but the problem is how long can you survive? Do I cry? Maybe? Sometimes? Hardly. Your chest just hurts. Sometimes I’d rather allow my self feel physical pain and equate it…
The goosebumps were filled on the skin Hairs stood at the back of the neck In a moment, the rancid smell of liquefying skin blended with roasted hair and metals was choking It didn’t put on a show to care or recognize anyone It had nothing to do with being too good or excessively insidious. Dark smoke and fire filled the air The absence of oxygen took life speedier than the burns Time will stop and each memory will be…
I decided to read my favourite story one last time It was accompanied with nausea rippled in an empty stomach The only light I could see was darkness and shadowy forms of anguish My fingers were numb as my throat was dry from pain My palms were sweaty and sticky as I stared on the story that was once filled with sunshine My heart was a raging inferno with no relief to be found The pages were blurred from rivulets…
OMG ? it can’t be possible!!!Staring at my screen, Digesting all the sweet memories everyone is sharing on his page, Looking at his best pictures on my timeline and the captivating messages from people knowing today isn’t his birthday, I screamed? I remember my last words to him ‘I hope I never get to hear from you in my life again’ ? Now what we argued about seemed so trivial My eyes blurred and I didn’t know when I broke…