The heart’s broken, soul withered, mind disillusioned. Happiness is pretence like the smile, to mask people away, to wall you in. Soon, the moss takes over the wall, thick in nature; it grows until the walls are no longer visible. But you always know, you always feel, you always remember that this wasn’t what you wanted.

Another moment, it’s the bloodshot eyes and you cry-everything you had even longed for, ever known, your emotions now fragile, your love now forgotten, your dreams now crushed, you cry. So much comes out at that moment that you feel your stomach being empty churned by the dread of loneliness, nausea drives you weak along with memories, and the vacuum is created.

it’s that one, but it is that moment.