he inhales one more time, *cough*

as he coughs, he releases the dreams that were once possible to achieve.
he lets go of his humanity after bringing in insanity

his lifelong aspirations were exchanged for a sweet escape - lasting for only 3 hours.

the persecution from his father only brought him further from his dreams, but closer to weed.
weed to him was like.. a haven.

a haven to recreate his life to suit his needs, a haven to get rid of all his sadness and worries..


.. a haven to ruin his life.

that haven was only there for the meantime



not finished yet i got tired of imagining

Tags: sdfs

She's born with her utensil in her hand. No, it's not a pen, but a pulse. A pulse that leads to her bloodline, which leads to her heart - a chamber filled with words, words with inspiration coated with imagery; ready to be spoken and spread throughout the world.

Experiencing her first embrace, the warmth of her mothers arms creates an ember inside her that ignites a flame to bring out the firey words to burn down any trials or tribulations. She's ready for the world for she has poetic terms inside her.. Because no one can ever ruin the birth of a writer.

Tags: sdfs