It was an unfortunate twist of events
The dagger hit my back like a mosquito bite,
so delicate and soft,
but the damage is undeniable.
-a.h.
YOU ARE READING
whirring | 1
Poesia❝Hope is the thing with feathers that perches into the soul - and sings tunes without words - and never stops at all.❞ [welcome to whirring act one. this is the first installment of my personal poetry. these writings are so near and dear to my heart...
