— ;

People weren't capable of creating light.

They just stayed behind the ashes and smell of destruction painted in a black hole.

Before it could attack, the void was a spiral that fed itself with your soul.

-t.f.s

𝑴𝑼𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑹.

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴,

𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳,

𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥,

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘵𝘩,𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭,

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭,

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭.

𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘴

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦,

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦,

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘦,

𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺

𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺.

𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪'𝘮

𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧

𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴,

𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩

𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘵,

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴,

𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘴

𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘣𝘺𝘦𝘴,

𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥,

𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘪𝘵,

𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘳

𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧.

Feelings.

Tired or not, who cares?

Sad or happy, who stays?

Harder to be sad sometimes

is like harder to be happy,

who else sees the other picture of me

trying to be someone else to chase?

In order to complete, we run in chaos

giving it a try to full ourselves,

happy isn't a gift, nor sad to be

we deserve to live

just like places in us

deserve to be free.

-t.f.s.

“Do more things that make you forget to check your phone.”

— Unknown

You don’t know anything about God, do you…? Perfection and harmony? God cares more about your pores than he does that. He’s famous for his coincidences and absurdism. I’ve seen it countless times. No matter how masterfully you devise your schemes, where we are is here. A prison at the ends of the earth. The ones that run the world are, in fact, the ones who howl, run, and shed blood in incidental storms. You and I are powerless in the face of their intense spirits. Do you know what that means…? You’re correct. Humans are sinful and foolish. But they aren’t quite as boring as you think.

“And sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself, because I could find no language to describe them in.”

— Jane Austen

In the name of Artemis ,

I claim to be the rare artist

that used to pick a destiny ,

that used to suffer alone

in a room of patience ,

in a room that I was born.

Little I know , how fast time can be ,

when I don't overlook too much

when I don't wish to be seen .

I'll invite my failures and succeeds ,

I'll tell them how I'd survive without

relief , strength , need , breath.

How I ended up to come in here.

How I chose the thing to be me.

That thing was close to fade ,

without it , I wouldn't know

my only friends- they drink

and they believe , they breathe,

they just don't like it when I see

what's outside of the box I used to be in.

I'd let myself burn in ashes,

but my flaws are the ones

whose lives are not dying ,

and yet, thanks to them

I still believe and breathe.

I am another skin ,

and I am alive for me.

I'll let Zeus laugh at me

because their hands

were bigger than my ego ,

and my eyes could never go

inside a God's mind whereabouts ,

I'd never have a taste on their flaws..

...because they got none.

She was a careful soul

that no one really took

and her hands wanted more

than just happiness behind

a dark frame ;

incapable of speaking

she lets the waves

kiss her skin ,

and trap her inside her veins ;

till she feels colder ,

lower , damaged ,

till her eyes no longer flicker. .

-t.f.s.

Senryū II

Briny taste of air ,

bright line with noise of abuzz ,

chandelier of hope .

-t.f.s.

Listen ,

Sounds of

Your heart

Spilling

In my ear ,

A whole

Born

Existence

Before me.

-t.f.s.