Withered Thoughts.

Thoughts.

Gray.

Sometimes love, friendship, money, happiness and stuff can’t fill some people’s emptyness.

Sometimes that emptyness is the only true thing you really have between your hands, the only thing that remminds you, that even if you’re laughing right now, the happiness, isn’t an eternal state.

This emptyness, that i draw in the glass with the tip of my fingers,

wet, cold and rough.

like my hands covered in tears.

like a winter breeze iceing my lips.

i surrender and embrace it.

Where there’s light, there always be darkness.

And i’m a little swatch of gray in here.