HIRAETH .
(noun)
— a sense of homesickness for a
home that you can not return
to or that never was .

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" Pain . it truly is diverse although,,
consistent .

there are many types of pain,,
emotional,, physical . but,, if i
was to be truly honest . i do not
mind pain like i should . you see
pain and i have a particular
relationship . no,, not the love
type — we simply,, tolerate
each other . and on a rather
macabre note . i do sometimes
rather quite enjoy bittersweet
melancholy .

when we feel emotions, wether
we notice it or not — different
feelings can show us a different
world . jealousy,, envy — we can
really see the toxic green of the
healthy grass,, the poisonous
fumes of a lingering perfume .
anger and hatred make us
understand the way that smoke
dances in random but stunning
patterns,, almost like serpents
bathing in the moonlight .
and the numbness brings out
the dull aspects to a blade,,
a reality to our own fate .

maybe i have had too much
time alone to think about my
own life to cut corners and assume
my ending . a rather morbid
mentality indeed,, to just assume . "

The book closed gently . as the father
saw his child was already asleep,,
he slotted the book into the dark
oak shelf amongst other musty and
dusty books that laid to rest there
for years . "one day my child,, you will
understand ." he whispered and with
that he turned off the light in the room
and closed the door .

HIRAETH .
(noun)
— a sense of homesickness for a
home that you can not return
to or that never was .

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩
┊ ┊ ┊ ✫
┊ ┊ ☪︎⋆
┊ ⊹ ┊
✯ ⋆ ┊ . ˚
˚✩