✨️
on the other side of my grief, i found dark beautiful things..but it was too cold to stay there so i borrowed inside of it. it became my oxygen, my water, my food. it consumed me. but i wasn't like the others who wore it on their sleeves and became a shell of themselves outwardly. i knew how to pretend. and Im not sure my way was any better. but at least at the end of the day, when i lay silently and could hear myself breathe...at least i knew i was still alive and wanted nothing more then to still just exist, even if it felt heavy...even if now i felt out of place in warm spaces. and maybe that could still change. I don't think hope has ever killed anyone...at least not the kind that you don't really believe is coming. the best kind is so quiet, you almost forget it's there.
-shatara
art by: unknown ✨️
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