Words.

Talk is cheap, like the alcohol  running through myy veins clouding my better judgment.
Inhaling the smoke that will cut my life short, i try to reassemble some sense into me.

Actions that prove  the opposites of what i believed, of what people showed me at first.
Trust is earned and lost.
It's  time consuming and toxic if you think about it, having to fight to be the one. Sometimes it's  even hard to be yourself amdist all this caos.

Being gentle,kind and truly good is almost impossible; you lose your ego and your mind.
And no, having an ego is not bad. It means that you value yourself over anyones bullshit.

There is a thin line between having humanity and being a dumb bitch.
The lines are thining; so is my speech.

Fear the day when I will have nothing to say and no more power to complain; for that will be the day I give up on you, on us.