Here in my bed, huddled in a cocoon of blankets, nothing can hurt me. My nose buried In obscure poetry, or my thumbs ratta-tat-tatting my soul into words, this is my safe place, my sanity, my song. This is my soul.
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Here in my bed, huddled in a cocoon of blankets, nothing can hurt me. My nose buried In obscure poetry, or my thumbs ratta-tat-tatting my soul into words, this is my safe place, my sanity, my song. This is my soul.
Writer ~ Rithvik Singh
For my mother ,
My heart is a flower at your feet .
Thank you for being the only person who always loves me , even at my worst [ Page No. 2 ]
This book will make you feel to...