NotSmartGuy
“Birds of a feather flock together.” Flocks that become murders. What’s-what, who’s-who; In a fickle world, you and I are lonesome. We’re earnest, aren’t we? We would never betray each other
I'll never know what hurt you more
The words not spoken or the words that were
What can you put in a pocket? Keys, a baby kangaroo, air; all the things for which hands are not enough. The weight of what needs to be returned, what needs to live, what one needs to live, none meant to be carried alone and all carried by the burdened pocket
Sweet is the crib, the crying voice, the people gathered round, the salty taste of tears. Bittersweet is the coffin, the crying voices, the people gathered round, the salty taste of tears. What of the chocolate that is swallowed and gone? Its taste and memories still linger
The fault zigzags across the now-barren ground, having torn through the dirt and people's homes and lives and dreams. The survivors scavenge the ruins but salvage nothing—why me? Not their fault, simply the feeding time of the apathetic hungry earth
What of the glass that had its lustrous gleam covered by the layer of grime? The cloudy, murky darkness has washed away and revealed the original shine. Life is as such, there is always a second chance. Let's start our New Year's Resolutions a day early, and do what we can to right our past wrongs.
writing since 2025 · 7 entries · 6 days shown up
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the words Rei reaches for
tastegleamingyear'sfaultcryinggatheredroundsaltytearspocketlivecarriedwordseyesevetop