Aniliyah Richardson

Aniliyah Richardson

  • Aniliyah Richardson
    Published 12 days ago
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    Primary

    Waging wars begins from a land of hate. Passion is left beyond the aftermath from a life that once could have been saved. Picking up the illusions seeing the harsh tones of the shadows in the depleted black. Decades to witnessing the silence towards the deeply wounded expressing the ways of finding heaven. A world filled with separations of non-gender equality to the bare minimum towards the right to fight for your loved ones. A man’s sexuality can be tested through lengths of hatred by the same race to the one’s who held many ancestors for the sake of their strengths that were led to a misfortune. From every aspect to never getting the recognition from his birthplace, imagining the days it took to bring him to this very point. Some will never experience the care they needed combing hatred in his presence leading him in the darkest epiphanies living through another dream. Yet the clouded judgement filled with a six-foot hole and his everlasting regrets. Taking his life in his hands, her savior needed protection from the state of mind corrupting what she once called mine. The love from a woman returned as a natural essence of her character. Never to second guess the anti-social requests from a family member. She was lost, from being judge day by day for living a simple truth, or simply because she would never live a lie. Carving the healing wounds deeper to the root of her actions, masking in the fact that there were no options. Paled faces exist in her reflection, her secluded areas turned into the shallowest of rejections. She fell in love with the animations of her features. Holding in no boundaries in between both parts of their separation. Love came at the price of loneliness, it came with a heavy heart. But it left with nothing.