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Feeling myself wither and fade away is a beautifully scary thing, knowing that one day ill just be gone is something beautiful I find peace in.
Drowning in drunk thoughts, feeling myself rot. Letting my mind drown, mindless wandering, going down and around. I'm stuck in this cycle, getting sunk with my mind full.
---- Pretty Colors---- ~mixed with pretty people~ Equal ugly hidden triths no one knows ----Hiding behind---- ~our really pretty colors~ Letting no one know about our ugly hidden scars
the Burning Trail In the burning valley, under burning skies, There lay a burning trail, burning old and frail. The whistling wind, humid and hot, Makes the twisting path even harder to climb.
The brain is a peculiar component - so unknown and intricate. With all the puzzles and the pieces, which we cannot solve yet. One of these puzzles is a condition.