“Hearts may break, but hearts are the toughest of muscles, able to pump a lifetime, seventy times a minute, and scarcely falter along the way. Even dreams, the most delicate and intangible of things, can prove remarkably difficult to kill,”
- Fragile Things, Neil Gaiman
Of actual going to school and this sem is finito. I can finally breathe.
—
I was browsing through old notebooks and I happen to run into old poems I made.
I really had this distinct melody to my poems. So unfortunate that I lost it. I think depression makes me rhyme.
Will post old poems here sometime.
One’s called “Ephemeral Surrender”
First line goes “your presence causes pandemonium”
and had this line “ours is a jargon of the most dangerous desires - the paradigm of ambivalence”
It’s sad I can’t rhyme like that anymore. I miss writing poems.
