I was raised in a glass house, held together by the fragile threads of a false facade. To the outside world, everything appeared fine, but within, a war raged. Children fought desperately for survival, while adults remained indifferent, consumed by their own concerns. This house offered no refuge; with the slightest pebble, it could all come crashing down, revealing the truth. So I sat there, paralyzed by fear of shattering this fragile illusion.
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Fragments of Innocence
ПоэзияEmbark on a deeply personal journey through the pages of "Fragments of Innocence." With raw and honest verse, the author invites you to explore the complexities of childhood trauma and the development of borderline personality. Interspersed with mom...
