“Are you okay?” They ask.
I respond as quickly as possible as they will not notice the earthquakes in my voice or the drought in my heart.
Mirror mirror on the wall, was I born to fall..? Roes are red but my heart is dry. Dreams are sweet but mine are bitter.
They’ll ask “why?”
But no answer found and I’ll rot deep on the qround.
She cried and said , “sorry ” but for what .?
Sorry for having feelings.