A collection of short stories from my tarnished mind.
Sunday, February 3, 2019
Insanity, my old friend, I've come to walk with you again
Sober thoughts circle the mind at 2 a.m.
That which was,
or that which was never meant to be.
What was, isn't.
What will be remains to be seen.
I am the ghost in the silence of the night, forever wandering.
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