poetry allows me to purge and process. its how I breathe.
astringent,calms the sharp tongue in my mouth,as it if was soap,but could not burn the blood,over chest that loiters in flames,astringent could cool the dust and dirt,but your name on my lips,only a lullaby now,only a story to be told over grave,behind two eyes, and ears that listened,now a ruins,nobody will know,what type of tears […]