CaoimheH
Every object tells a story. And just because you can't see it, doesn't mean it's not there.
It was all for him. Himself. He didn't ever care about me. Or her, or his friends. It was just him against the world, and nobody could get him out of his little self absorbed bubble. No one could help him out of the dark place he found himself in. And that was his downfall.
The sun rises in the east, and sets in the west. This is just a given. Such as the human body will breathe to allow the person to live.
But there must be more for us than that, right?
It's been a long time since that day. It's long behind us, in the past. But it will live on in our minds forever.
Underneath the sky. With the stars shining brightly, twinkling. The only light source. But it seemed so far away. Too far. Much too far. How can I strive to get to the light if it's so far? Tiny pinpricks swallowed by the endless black sky.
writing since 2012 · 8 entries · 7 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Caoimhe showed up.
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7days written
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the words Caoimhe reaches for
livefarskystarsdarklightshiningthinkinghimselfmeannightbeautifulshimmeringshadowmingledblurring