Keep pouring what's behind those inks, for when it dries, only traces will be left on the trails. This is a very romantic piece, behind those lonely story the way you narrate them makes it lovely.

I'm tired of running,
of being the fugitive
to my own grief. But
tell me what's more important;
false reassurance that brings hope,
or reality that brings me pain?
^ favorite part of the poem for everyone can relate to it quite well and I also love the question put in there nice job :) 5/5

-Bet