Mourning
The story of my life isn't but the story of the stories I choose to remember, imagine, reinvent, and tell. Some of them get better and more detailed as time goes by. Others, richer in pain, gloomier and darker. Others cease to exist as I no longer feel interest for them. And others have a special place in my heart, because I was never able to remove the knife."I mourn my mother. I mourn my other mother. I mourn so many people that are still alive. When did my life turn into a cemetery of living dead?"
Posted by: Auryn Beorn on 15/03/2015 at 12:00:00 - 0 Comments