I think I’ve reached the point where I’m losing interest in the channel and the groups .
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There was something about you that I can't remember, it's the same damn thing that I can't forget .Читать полностью…
Finding a home in the silence, wrapped in melodies that understand the things I never say out loud. Just me and a rhythm to call my own 🌟 .
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Strumming my pain with her fingersЧитать полностью…
Singing my life with her words
Killing me softly with her song
Killing me softly with her song .
12:00
1 December.
Nothing new, just more disappointments .
Mi corazón está muy en conflicto; veo una contradicción en mis sentimientos .
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Я всячески старалась показать тебе, что я все еще люблю тебя,
а ты всячески избегала моих намеков.Читать полностью…
There are dates that stand like a sharp blade in the course of a lifetime; whenever I remember them, I feel the exact same suffocation that robbed me of my safety, as if the trauma is repeating itself right now in all its hideous details.
It was the day that completely swept my life away, altering my details into the worst they could ever be. In those heavy hours, I tasted a bitterness of heartbreak and humiliation that I never thought a heart could survive. It was a tangible, silent agony perching upon my chest, as if crushing my bones and stealing the air from my lungs by force.
Since that date, the days of lightheartedness and peace have been folded away forever. Thus began a chain of dark days that emptied me from within, changing me until I became another faded, borrowed version of myself—one that does not resemble me, and one I do not know , Yet, what is even more bitter than the ruin left by that day, is the exhausting lie I live now: to exist within your orbit, pretending to be content and detached. To play the role of the 'passerby spectator' who listens and speaks with neutrality, while every single atom inside me burns with colossal emotions. Emotions that reject this narrow framing, and scream that it was never—and will never be—just a passing relationship.Читать полностью…
2:02
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A hauntingly beautiful masterpiece of mystical love and profound longing, where every note echoes the ache of a soul yearning for its beloved .
There is a heavy silence that grows between souls when the echoes of affection finally run dry .
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I’ve become a ghost of my own self ، a masterpiece of exhaustion, painted in the colors of pain and silent yearning .
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Cheers to another year of making memories together .Читать полностью…
- This is Chris Risola's guitar when he wants to say :
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12:00
now what's mine is yours, that’s american law .
