Sometimes the person you love can hurt you the most. Sometimes there is so much more behind that hurt than just the incident itself. No matter how divided we all are, we are the same in the end
The feeling of liberation is upon me. I feel the weight that my shoulders bare lifting. This is poetry about, perhaps, the heaviest burden of all. Living.
This is part one of a short story I am writhing, I have no idea where it goes yet. If you are into novel-like short stories this one is for you. Let me know whether you want a part 2?