I’m cold and sour sometimes; sometimes ostensibly fleecy like snow. Drowning sometimes under the veneer of memories while sometimes swaying over the ocean all alone. Sometimes I run away to defy these hollow conventions and then being pulled back again with my laborious soul.
I am starving severely for love at moments and sometimes crave for not being adored anymore. Sometimes preaching morality is my utmost desire and sometimes I’m cruelest the most.
I am neither good nor bad; I am lost somewhere in between. I am lost somewhere in between.