I just can't find it in me,
I feel like a flower with falling petals right now
I've always enjoyed visitors
If you ask me to write about love at this point in my life
Everyone and everything that touches me feels wrong now.
Remember you must die.
I refuse to waste my apologies
I know you were raised broken too
On the mosaic of wounds covering my fragile mind
I don't think we are going to work out
I always do my best to avoid you.
Poetry doesn't pour out of young women's lips like milk or honey
When I asked what shoulder blades are for
What goes around, keeps going until it finds its way back.
the dichotomy of freedom & safety
Shedding insecurities like the falling of leaves – if only it was that simple and so easy
The picture painted by the shadows of periods, in the colour of words & emotions.
Period blues and their consequent crimson emotion.
Holding back on me, doing it for you. No more, no more.