wthm
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21-12-2021 [sak nyocote ae wes] nek wes penak rak usah rese.
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914
Between Cold Coffee .&
Unfinished Lines 💿
The night isn't over, but my thoughts are already unraveling. On crumpled paper, I write verses I can't even speak aloud.
let you = undefined;
function moveOn(you) {
if (!you) throw "Error: Still in memory";
}
try {
moveOn(you);
} catch (e) {
console.log("Guess I'm not ready.");
}
Each lyric is a wound still
healing. ⭐ I’m not crafting a
song, I’m ripping open
memories—word by word. 🎙️
no perfect rhythm, no clean chorus.
Just the quiet noise in my head
refusing to fade. I don’t write to be heard, I write to survive.