November 1, 2017
By Anonymous

I often think of my mind as the equivalent to an abandoned dumping ground for trash

Fragments of thoughts

Organized chaos

The leftover ashes from a bonfire that was once ignited in my soul

But which now remain as soot containing the memories of which I can't seem to live again

No matter how many times I strike the match

I think our minds are reflections of the rest of our bodies


The bearings of a girl whose bruised heart hurts to beat 

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