• Alex Antally


worrying is a privilege of the living,

and if I'm not living right now,

if I'm only existing,

what does that make me?

Not alive but existing,

like a torn flower that fades,

my petals are darker than yesterday.

worrying is a privilege of the living,

isn't it?

- Alex Antally 🌸

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It used to hurt, she whispered in his ear. Now it doesn’t, I don’t feel anything... they took it all! I’m a black canvas filled with color, just not mine... I belong to the world that painted a smile

Find her

She wrote about you, on every bus stop she came across, on the subway somewhere in downtown Manhattan, on top of the Empire State Building, on that sidewalk in Queens, she wrote about you, wishing you

No ending

we have no ending You and I even with a said goodbye our wounds keep mending until we break each others hearts I wonder why for all my life we do this every time - Alex Antally 🌸

©The Heart Of A Writer