Those who knew the dead

gut. The building is alive with the hum of neighboring apartments, but I've never felt more

r home, the laughter, and the love that once filled every room. Now, it's just a distant memory, a dream I'm desperate to cling to. Whe

rt, promising a peaceful future, feel like a Band-Aid on a bullet wound. I'm not sure if she believes them her

cut it. It's like someone is peeling back my skin, exposing my vulnerabilities to the world. Hollo

itchen, a separate room from the living area, feels like a stranger's space. I miss the warmth of our

s a fleeting feeling, a reminder that everything can be taken away in an instant. I'm left wi

ainful process, like slowly unraveling the threads of my identity. I'm left with a s

loss, and the echoes of memories that haunt me still. It's a tale of death,

hin me. Until then, I'll hold on to the memories of my family, of the love we shared, and the laughter that once filled our

place look this up and say now

d, it will burst