My place. My nook.
My home away from nowhere.
Here where the sun thrives on my body's ink.
Here is where evil is reborn. Eternally.
Jan 11, 2020
What do you do, when you're stuck and can't move?
Do you languish in the helplessness or try to inch forward?
What if this laziness is a sign of nonchalant waywardness?
Or an actual indication to give up and let go?
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