we wrap ourselves up in
thorns, protecting our petals
from all those atrocities, never realising that the same thorns
pierce our skin as well.
— going deeper, slipping into the blood that runs through our veins. a dying fire. a little death.
— anwesha s.
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Articulately Voiceless | ✓
Poetryhighest rank #01 in poetry | shortlisted for the fiction awards 2018 under best poetry | featured by wp_poetry. ❛ behind a fake facade we hide. ⠀ cherry lips and liquor lies. ❜ -a series of words, drabbles and midnight thoughts that remained uns...
