The shadow of the darkness, the thing nobody likes. The hidden lies beneath the real truth. All the dried smiles behind the sad face, walking behind everyone, face down at a slow pace. Waking up, barely standable, knees and limbs a wobble. Everyday, fingers pointed, laughs made, in the end it’ll all be paid. Books become your best friend, the thing you use an escape. Pen and paper become your mind, taking control over everything left behind.

You feel alone, you walk the halls and get the chills in every bone.

Nothing feels right, right , right…

member when looks didn’t mean everything? you could walk out of your house and feel comfortable with just a bun and no make-up. member when things were much more simple? people not all up in your business starting shit. member when friends stayed true till the end? none seem to these days.