When the night sky confessed….

I was never a speck of dustbut a journal of those scattered soulswho poured their siphoned poetriesin an attempt of…

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The mess

To be excessively creative, you’ve got to deal with the mess.

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The Bet

A long time ago there were 2 friends, a writer, and a painter. Both were equipped with exquisite taste, talent,…

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It rained today

It rained todayand I went a little tipsy.Sloshed under the influenceof my liquor-coated old diarywhen those words had me smiling.…

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Splinters

You might saythat I’m brokenbut even my splintersdipped in poetries,can inject thelife back into you.

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Risks

To the one who’s afraid of taking risks/ or changes happening around. I know you must have felt overwhelming by…

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About September

September arrived liketwo patrolling cars to comfirmif I am still a criminal.And my salty eyes gave away.Yes, I am fugitive…

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An explorer trying to know the roots

I am that little explorer who loves exploring everything. Like the corners of the house abandoned for years, like the…

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An open letter to a healing heart:

Have you ever met someone who was murdered in cold blood, veins popped out, death clock dancing on their head…

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Maturity

Maturity is making peace with the fact that even your closest friends depart from your life. And it sucks no…

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