Are You A Poet?
The crackling sound of my skull, the illuminated light on my vision, and the twisted feeling of my blood vessels are just few signals when my brain is working abnormally in full determination and my heart pumping extra hard of excitement fulfilling what I called dream.
My fingertips pressing keys in such a rush to catch every details I have before I open my eyes in the middle of the night. There is nothing left to catch when my muscles cracked and calling the sound of the morning pop.
I was statics knowing that all the labor I invested was such a wonderful dream and relying my skills to make it happen before my journey ends.
Good morning
The crackling sound of my skull, the illuminated light on my vision, and the twisted feeling of my blood vessels are just few signals when my brain is working abnormally in full determination and my heart pumping extra hard of excitement fulfilling what I called dream.
My fingertips pressing keys in such a rush to catch every details I have before I open my eyes in the middle of the night. There is nothing left to catch when my muscles cracked and calling the sound of the morning pop.
I was statics knowing that all the labor I invested was such a wonderful dream and relying my skills to make it happen before my journey ends.
Good morning
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