16 February, 2017

There exists nothing beforehand
You build a wall of imagination
Flakes of snow under your feet
Occasional clouds of anxiety
A narrow abyss to live in ,sad.
What are you made out of
What's inside your heart
Who you are living around
What's behind the mask you carry?
The one who cries when you smile
The one who smiles when you cry
You are an imagination
Of yourself.
~

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