sorte de toda sorte

my heart is warfare.
just like that. a battlefield.
where I fight myself over and over again.
trying to feel something.
trying to understand.

sometimes the battle gets wicked.
sometimes… a new reason rises.
like a phoenix. from the ashes.
buried deep down.
but begging for sunlight.

and the sun has risen once again.
I just hope and beg that there won’t be rain.
please, let the sun shine bright.
let it blind my eyes.
let my throat run dry.
give me just a little peace of mind.

stay, this time.
don’t fool my little heart.
it can’t take another fight.
I’m pretty sure it won’t survive.

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