• krishnega 33w

    The truth is, we relish pain. We immortalise it. We don’t once genuinely seek escape. We don’t bother reopening the healed wounds, if it can bleed poems anew. We’re addicted; yes, we are.

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    We can’t afford

    to let muse

    slip away;

    and so,

    we speak

    Of scars


    the wounds

    have healed.