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The echoes of those lies...

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The stories that I told myself to ease the lonely ache now haunt my waking moments, the promises they break. •The phantom comfort, woven in the night, Now claws at dawn, and steals away the light. •I built a fortress, from illusions spun, But shadows creep, and battles are begun. •Each whispered 'maybe,' each imagined grace, Returns a specter, in this empty space. •The echoes of those lies, a constant, chilling sound, Where solace once resided, now only wounds are found.   •The painted smiles, the words I longed to hear, Now twist and mock me, fueled by rising fear. •My heart, a stage where fantasies once played, Now holds a theater, where truths are re-betrayed. •The warmth I sought, within my crafted dream,  Has turned to frost, a cold and bitter gleam.

I'm still learning how to go back and reread my...

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I'm still learning how to go back and reread my own chapters without feeling like I want to set all of my pages on fire. ~E.V Rogina

You know what's scary about this age...?

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You know what's scary about this age? You can't even enjoy your down time. You're socially convinced that every moment you're spending not doing anything is wasted time. That you always should be working towards something. We forget that it's okay to have a breather and simply take time to yourself.

I have enough memories to drink coffee all by...

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"I have enough memories to drink coffee all  by myself in a cafe so empty yet so crowded  with the ghosts of those who have left but always stayed." - Mahmoud Darwish

Aren't we all waiting to be read by someone...

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Aren't we all waiting to be read by someone, praying that they'll tell us that we make sense? ~Rudy Francisco