halaquinn-arcadias

The Ashes in my stomach, Ghosts of a fire that once consumed my heart in the heat of passion, choke me. Equilibrium off balance, all that was is no more, and all that I never knew is all too familiar. My memories leave me breathless, as if I am drowning in a cold sea of regret. Tossing and turning in agony, living a nightmare from which I just cannot awaken. Who knew that fire would leave me cold, That breathing would suffocate me, That what I saw was blinding me, That life was killing me, And that something would give me nothing. What makes me “alive”? Is it the fact that my heart pumps the blood through my veins? Why doe