The unreciprocated love is always brutishly buried alive with
ruin, bruise, and wreckage
somewhere in the ridge of the heart,
which indeed will never
rest In peace
until we do so.
~sara~
YOU ARE READING
Traces
PuisiIn this book 'Traces' I have traced the outline of every unspoken sense and multiple emotions that one might have lingered with wreckage for unbounded dawns, dusks and darks.
