Too tired
to write
Too hungover
to fight
This life
Hangs by a small thread
And at the end of it
Fly’s me
The kite
The life
Flowing
with the wind
And when
that breeze ends
Or the thread snaps
So do I
But while alive
I’d like to see
how high
I can fly.
-C.H.
I wish I could express how I really feel But language is math And math is art And I can’t remember why I started this anymore . . ....
If the wings of a butterfly Can shift the winds of a hurricane Then What can You and I Do? If a butterfly Never see’s ...
Spending money Likes it’s funny To be broke Giving up on myself constantly Like it’s fun To be constantly searching for hope...
Comments