2 min readJul 14, 2019

We were all we have. You were all my feelings, packed survive.

Photo by Mikael Kristenson on Unsplash

You swayed like you were verging on the lane of mental deprival. It seemed like you had never lived your life. The pain scorched with a spark of unrecognizable sense you had never felt before.

This horror tripped over your brain, knocking on a subconscious backyard to recover all the bad dreams that had once consumed your breath into the darkness you scare the most.

Days of spring were just hell in disguise.

You were living in an illusion of your heyday, but those spoken emotions were representing something else. I stare at you through the vision of thousand reflected pieces, just to witness the pain crawling beneath your vulnerability.

Cries lingered in the void of silence like wails of eternity, as echoes prevailed the emptiness in its tone. The tumor of death surfaced in a definite form of a forsaken soul, who was a broken piece of the world.

But I had never asked for this.

The tragedy spoke to us every night, as I buried my secrets beneath your layer of swollen memories. We were all we have. You were all my feelings, packed survive.

You stood before me, …

…with a gleam of sorrow shedding from those dead eyes. Having witnessed my life more than I understood myself, you took a piece of me and resided in my heart to cure the ache I was defenseless against.





Digital artist and writer. Write prose and embed emotion in between vividly dark beautiful lines. Finding ways to connect with the wounded hearts.