poetry allows me to purge and process. its how I breathe.
ScarcityNo fertile ground in my spaceYet I am sewing seeds for flowers to grow on,Lack of empathy,No questions or curiousity,Is it arrogance ?My unknown is a melted multicolour ice-creamI am a blend of flavours , bursting from tongue ,Except mine is in chest, eyes and feet,Mine is in every marking that makes my hand,I was […]