Mind&#039;s tiles

☁ Nobody's the angel you thought about

But the devil you wish you wouldn't become

☁I'm not literally scared of heights, but the fact that if I'd ever fall, I mayn't be able to forgive myself for what I've killed

☁ The impossibility is a possible projection of what could go right, but still choose not to action.

☁ What's color in the end? Only an illusion to the blankness we were born in.

☁ I feel like I'm the salt within the tear, that crusts onto the skin, diminishing its pulchritude

☁ I wandered as lonely as a naked thought that has no connection to any previous or future topic, that alone may speak louder than a whole paragraph of empty, yet aesthetic words.

☁ Sometimes it's only writing where I find the burn I need to wake me up and close my eyes to reality.

☁ If all of us were alike, were would be the end? We'd circle around the same plot, puzzled not knowing the script.

☁ You and me are like two voices separated by seas, speaking the same language, hearing each other without communication.

☁ Sometimes, I wake up so late that i even forget I'm living, that all my senses are mere reactions to my dreams. I'm living far away from the clock, but feels so near

☁ I have kept your flowers safe. It is in my lungs each time I recall their insatiable smell, stuck in my nostrils as an endless memory of our past. It is in my blood, pumping my heart each time I try to pull away from you, a foggy flashback which would warn me that you were the toxic man in my life, yet your love was the one to breathe back love in my soul.

☁ Expired thoughts are burnt words we spelled too impulsively.

☁ Your love once declared so fiery has turned into a sunburn.

☁ Let's be creative with love and turn it into lies.

☁ Humans are like machines which work on expired tickets.

☁ Don't burn reality, but the illusion of living in it.

☁ You're testing the impulsivity of my feelings, not the viability of my thoughts.

☁ I've noticed the rain since the day I started to cry.

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