onsdag 13. april 2016

The undertow.

Sometimes, it carries you away.
Sometimes it does not.

Princess of the Night.
Princess of the Dawn.
New Dawn.
Because it is always a new one.
Princess, princess of the Night.

There is no Princess.
Never was.
All there is happens to be something I’m not. the ME.

The feeling of sorrow is real, be if from the outside or the inside.
One mystery box later and I might even thank the tank driver.

Feeling good is good enough.
Except for when you don’t.

Ingen kommentarer: