It's been months since I have broken down, over the bathroom floor, flushing the world while washing sins out of my hair, - a daily ritual of an incomplete flower. among those who see me like I am an idol who can be worshipped for I have the light, (unfiltered) among those who know me … Continue reading Open wounds
mental health
Identity Crisis
In few days from now, I will grow. Once in a month when I am sad I do not. Walking as milk spills from the container where I could not contain myself, I am not a shapeshifter for I do not have a shape. I grow into the air, like air but I can't be … Continue reading Identity Crisis
The Poetic Elixir 
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