our hearts are malnourished, but we are fighting—fighting to grow
but what we have left is what we can offer to survive this winter.
just because we're insecure, doesn't mean you're not a stupid fucking asshole.
stormclouds hold in the warmth, bring in the
rain, the lethargy, our
years back, we witnessed
sun, but, feeling frost,
we fell apart.
when we needed it most, you died.
i never made plans to be cut off.
every bit of rhetoric: forced.
but now we matter, because we all matter
what is a life if you spend your life inconsiderate of their lives?
why not live life helping others?