Baskadia

Only if I could sleep at night, perhaps the moon will dance with my dreams. It highlights the shadows of those who walk at night hopelessly and reflects their tears against the cold breeze in the dry sky. People always believe that grass is greener on the other side, but we all have our misery, even rich man stress over killing a chicken. Sometimes a wish can't come to pass in dry lips that break to the last skin layer, but it doesn't mean you can't still count the stars in the Kalahari Desert while looking for answers in the moon. The cracked eye lens can only show the pain from the day before and the voices in his head solely narrate the horror yet to come. The mind can reach a point where you can't even dance with the monsters in your head anymore. Nobody cares to know what happened, I'm just puzzled about how she left everything to go. I didn’t see this chapter coming to an end, maybe my eyes were only focusing on the kisses let out by the moisture from her breath while the hands dried the oil for tomorrow. Does love choose the heart to rest in or some are just cursed from it? It does matter because no one has the answer, we just create what stays in our minds to survive. The fact that we are different doesn’t make all of us survivors of love, some just want to die from it and it all happens when you give it your all and get nothing in return.