My home is dying. It's walls - decaying. Touch the cracks on the ground and gaze up to the night sky. Know our thoughts are deluded. We are isolated.

November 9th, 2015, 4am

It was 27°C with few clouds. The wind was light.

Mubanga, Kaiton and Ianne want to know more.

Mubanga and Kaiton said thanks.

Share this moment

Crysallis Del Rey

I'm no poet. I'm not a writer. I don't even travel. Please bear with me. I have nowhere else to go. Writing on my journal still made me feel alone, swell and confused. I'm experimenting on trying to put words online and see what it really feels.

Create a free account

Have an account? Sign in.

Sign up with Facebook