Writing

sometimes happiness is just a persona

And what if I die tomorrow? Will I go unnoticed? Locked in my room, how long till they realise? Music on repeat- sounds of soft pen scribbling, anx..

A poem about people trading in their liberty in exchange of false security,and Grander.

Memory of childhood. It's interesting how an experience can filter into the present.

I can still see your light

REMEMBERING REBECCA - Part 13

They were not going to get home by 8:00, it was already 7:50 and Johanna's siblings were going as slow as possible. “Come on guys,” she be..

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