Wallowing in the depths of despair.

Covered in these woolen blankets, I still feel this bitter cold pierce through my skin that feels so unlike my own, so awfully sovereign. Craving for warmth, a thought too liberating, I feel ridiculously jaded, almost too empty to exist. My eyes they feel so dry, deprived of sleep I lie awake listening to the …

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Miserably Seen

I see your considerate soul betraying, deceiving, drowning in this turbulent mass of utter rage, feigning ignorance. I see the rectitude behind these broken actions, this unstable conflict. I see the desperate effort to remould, to fit in somewhere between these pages that speak of good, an uncanny perfection. I see your struggling thoughts, peeking …