All my achievements in this life are made of sand. Fancy castles that erode under the stiff breath of years. I have no children to carry my self-sustaining rage. No heirs to my hard-earned scars.
It makes life twice as poignant. Twice as bittersweet.
The cost of my self-worth is having empty hands when my end comes to greet me.
11:06 p.m. - 2015-05-04
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
Heartdesert - 2018-06-25
Elliptical - 2018-06-25
Back and Callback - 2018-06-18
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