ceva prostii pe aici
why does it matter what i look like, when it's my eyes that you face, my arms your embrace, my lips that you taste, my heart that you race, my dreams that you chase
Every hero has his journey... to bad some can't find the road
I only fear death, for it is the only thing that so strongly deprives the heart from beating for another.
we are two broken strings on a guitar that used to sing about love; or so i thought... in reality our songs were different, our words became dreams, our dreams became deceptions, because my notes sang about love, while yours just faked it
just sat and watched me burn, as my tears became bullets, piercing my
cheeks, returning to my heart, passing away, then being reborn within my
eyes, in an infinite circle of sorrow, as my lips turned to blades, and
i Just Wanted to Kiss You, and my eyes turned into empty shooting
stars, because so many wishes were wasted
currently working on a new poem
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