poetry allows me to purge and process. its how I breathe.
Amongst peeking Curtains, and cups of Chai, they are Plotting a Plan, of Degradation, on Me, Again, Without remorse, Forgetting they come from a Womb, Mothers and Wives, in this case Exes are forgotten, they even have their own Daughters, yet they Dare to ruin me, Again, Not knowing I already left, They are […]