REMEMBER THE DAYS WE DREAMED by Silver-Razor, literature
Literature
REMEMBER THE DAYS WE DREAMED
Remember. Sometimes something minuscule is beautiful.
Everlasting tides?
Morning sunrise?
Even things as simple as a touch of a hand to remind you of...
Memories you once cherished so dearly.
But we can't always see it.
Each of us suffocating in sorrow unable to grasp anything else to breathe.
Reach up and break the water.
To all. Everyone. I love you.
Hell- even those I have yet to meet.
Everything seems so painful but remember I love you. Even if I am nothing but a voice on the wind.
Damning ourselves and inflicting wounds be they physical or otherwise.
All of us burning under one sun and yet too blinded to see those beside us.
You thin
I don’t like it. Yes.
What it does to me. Yes.
I don’t like it. Yes.
I don’t want it. Yes.
But it makes me need. Yes, yes.
It makes me need. Yes, yes.
I hate it. Yes.
I don’t like it. Yes.
I need it. Yes.
I need it. Yes.
Addiction.
It strangles my veins, the veil of power pierced by longing again and again and again and again.
Who are you?
Who are the eyes who are so quick to pass judgement?
Are you hurting? Yes.
Suffering? Yes.
Writhing? Yes.
Falling? Yes.
Want it to end? Yes.
Need it? Yes, yes, yes.
Then have it.