Once, someone told me I would be misunderstood.
I took that as a fact. I knew I would be misunderstood, or actually, not uderstood at all. I would stand on my roof alone, trying to keep away from the flood.
I had decided I wouldn’t drown… But it was harder than I thought it would be.
I wasn’t sucked into the world like others were. I’m not mainstream. I’m not a fish in the swarm swimming my way through the easiest way possible. The flow never caught me and I accepted that.
I’m the bullet that hit your loved one, yes, that was me… that is me. I hit the weakest point and found myself within a heart. I sliced it, went through it and found myself painted by blood.
Now, if that is not beautiful, what is?
Selite:
oletus
- Kirjaudu tai rekisteröidy kommentoidaksesi
