We have so many different tales to tell but oftentimes we prefer to keep it on ourselves. As for me, I just want to lock myself inside this coffin of imagination wherein I could raise my voice as high as I possibly could. I can even sing my lungs out just to express how I feel. I can grab a pen and write narratives to relish my inner self but words will never be enough for others to understand who I am and why I am like this.
No one has ever known me. The next minute, I shall be an invisible being. The next hour, I shall be back to the real world and repent for the opportunities I missed with people I should be trusting. But no one was here beside me. I now see myself as someone who is way too far from being a possessive person. More and more, I am becoming a floating soul that no one can fathom.
Nobody attempts to delve into my saddest state. It would be better this way.
No one has ever known me. The next minute, I shall be an invisible being. The next hour, I shall be back to the real world and repent for the opportunities I missed with people I should be trusting. But no one was here beside me. I now see myself as someone who is way too far from being a possessive person. More and more, I am becoming a floating soul that no one can fathom.
Nobody attempts to delve into my saddest state. It would be better this way.
