the sun never truly sets, it simply hides behind the veil of our inevitable dreams
whispers of the universe, scattered like stars on an unfocused horizon
should we follow? Upwards, downwards, inward.
nothing is real, but everything is
♥
when did reality start to feel like a half-finished puzzle?
i sit in the corner of a crowded mind, quiet thoughts echo
do shadows have secrets? take a step, lose a thought
scribbles in the margins of what could be...
every ticking second, a heartbeat in the vast silence
rain drops could tell stories, but they choose to fall
encapsulated in
moments that escape like whispers in the wind
it's all a beautiful mess, isn't it?