So I told you I was upto no good.
I couldn't bake you muffins,
nor could I paint you pictures,
but I surely could write you a broken poetry with incomplete phases and meaningless words,
which I usually pen down by picking at the ancient wounds embedded on my skin from centuries.
Just like this one, which I have written by the help of that tiny, little scar marked at the very side of my knee that I got while running away from the chaotic world.
So here I would end up with my ink,
because,
my friend,
that tiny, little scar of my knee is too fresh to tell anymore stories.
YOU ARE READING
The Untold Stories.
Nouvelles// The Untold Stories. \\ " We're about the books we read, and the poems we love." - Kritika Banerjee. A collection of paragraphs, nanotales, poetry and thoughts from my journey. Highest Rank - #78 in short stories on 29/6/17 ...
