Without wounds my existence is bleeding, and I can't find the inner trail to follow myself.

How my soul is born and dies at the same time.

My body fights itself inside.

All of us are broken. It’s just a question of how far we are willing to go to fix it.

Some old wonders never heal.

It’s sad how quickly people can forget about you, until they want something from you

"‏ألا تُصاب أفكارنا بالملِل..من زيارتنا المُتكرره؟".

فقط لمسة من الموت ويكون هذا اليوم مكتملاً.

All confusions occur when you hear your voice.

الليل مُجرد استرجاع شُعور.

Sometimes we don’t get second chances. Sometimes things just end.

There is something bleeding to death inside me but I don’t know what it is.

the scars we can’t see are the hardest to heal.

Hate myself ..,I my remorse "

‏ما فائدة الغرفة الهادئة إن كان عقلي مُزعج جداً ؟

There’s something in my mind making everything worse.