Notes

I ponder of what life would be without a tragic face, with a heart damaged like broken ice, damages not even the dealer sees, scars that hurt even after healing, because with every battle scar, there is always hidden pain that lingers long enough to start another battle. These battles take time to heal, but I don't have that time, I sometimes feel like my time is almost done. But I am the only person deciding the time I stay on this forsaken world, yet filled with hidden beauty, like the beauty hidden deep in my eyes. My damaged eyes, leaking out my soul, my damaged soul. Those who see the glass half empty might see the sorrow locked deep in me, the silent plea for help. If only someone could read my eyes like the forest and the trees can, the wildlife that I wish to be in. I want the scents of the forest in my nose, but the trees are so far away, I feel so damaged and alone, so battered and defeated.