It’s that gut turning deep-seated feeling when you wanna quit, break, and cry except you cannot find any good reason to as a consequence, the
I can’t believe I have let you into my little world the aspect of me I keep classified and entombed, a bit twisted, mangled, truthful,
HEY! GET DOWN FROM THERE! You’re blocking all of our light. Up there on your high pedestal what the hell gives you the right? A
As the leaves will begin to turn burnt, golden, and browned, I begin to feel cold in my soul watching them spill to the ground.
Tear down the wall then build it up again, not the one by Trump or for the division of men. My analogy for life separating