Outside for the first time, after a long while; everything feels like a trace of lonely afternoon breeze that touches the end of my chapped lips—making me quiver in lonesome, dread and fear.
For the thought of having shadows lighten me, make me feel safe, however, little by little burdens me. With a superfluous weight I never needed, opinions I always take heed that worsens me, pains me and destroys me–instead of consoling.
Sometimes, everything we see isn’t the real visage of people
Everyone is two-faced
Three, four, five
It’s a matter of who’s who
And whose intentions are not after hurting you.
prompts, poems and idk 