Screens breathe like illusions I stay, I scroll, I fade,Time leaks like code through the cracks I made.Every second hums a hollow tune,I chase false suns through digital moon.Stress blooms…
Coleridge´s concept of “willing suspension of disbelief” argues that a reader’s mind can transcend known reality and naturally embrace the impossible in a work of fiction.
My heart is a tumbling stone.
A small, round, grey ball,
shaped by the northern winds that blow.
My heart is a tumbling stone.
A heavy burden keeping me low.
Where have the emotions gone?
I don't know.