I sit In front of a blank wall. There is nothing there, no joy, no happiness. Nothing to fill me with inspiration or love and compassion. Empty sounds fill my ears, echoing off the walls and into my brain. The sound of the emptiness repeats over and over, it's like I am being tortured with the emptiness that fills me and is slowly killing me.
Rhebekka
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Bekka, this is beautiful. Sad, heartbreaking and beautiful. I love it, and I love you. And I can say that yes, I do understand if only in the most basic way--sometimes you write things because they are inspired by things outside of you, not you personally. Either way, this was tragically gorgeous.
ReplyDeletelol thanks sophie
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