We are all given gifts
At different times...
Sometimes reality is twisted
And then the world doesn't turn...
I’m an old soul
In a young body...
My pen is empty
As my words dry up...
When i write i come with the intention
To open your heart...
I was a third grader when the school psychologist...
I remember now the sky of Damascus, in 2013...
Upon waking up,
I see sunshine rays shining through closed...
I write,
fill my days with verses...
don't talk
don't scratch the surface...
I lead a life of grief and pain,
Wherein I have nothing to gain...
California is burning
California is burning...
When your blankets refuse to warm you up
and your pillow stops letting you hug it tight...