September 18, 2022

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Dear ghost,

This trembling air, that invasive voices and those fidgeting eyes shall know of you for you have greatness born inside of you. The world is you. But sometime, the universe looms before me. It tells me it is endless. It taunts me only to reveal the part of you. You that is vulnerable. You that cower in fear of those huge huge huge walls. You stare at the shattered glass beneath your feet. See the side that is trapped inside of you. Will you ever keep your promises to mend the glass? For how long shall you twiddle your thumb?

 

As I straighten my back in the damp humid weather, my raven hair stick on my neck and i inhale like I always do. " where will I be in ten years that I know not of," it whispers. I pretend not to hear. But I do. Still, I walk away and close my eyes. Inhale deeply and dream.


Your neighbour.



L
Leaena
Sep 18, 2022 · 40 views

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"Journal writing is a voyage to the interior."

— Christina Baldwin