• rudra_00 4w

    A Poet's Life

    As I stooped lower and lower in her eyes, I was, in fact, rising up, up and way above the clouds towards the dizzying void of space.

    She loathed me.
    She wanted me to leave.

    But I stuck on, not because it was absolutely necessary, but because I was feeding on her hatred and writing poetry with the fumes of this acid. And this only goes to prove that even in her absolute hatred she was a friend. She was lifting me up.

    ~ Hirak