The blank pages are my sin.Bookshelves my cemeteryand poetry, the way I die.
I sit down to carve the most intricate lines my paper had ever felt. I follow and follow the long…
Will talkWhen your mirror will hug the dusty fog,when the grief will not set with the Sun.when your moustache be…
You know how the storm comes and shakes you up without touching? Your words do the same.
Not gonna lie,I find you so unattractive. When your mind-bending skillsof origami turn my apprehensionsinto those little things that fly…
I write. I write because nothing else makes sense to me. I write because everything I see speaks volume to…
You always used to wonderwhat book I’d be reading at the moment. And I always had one answer‘An interesting one’…
My vision isn’t only in my mind but in all the things I’m surrounded by. It’s in the teacup of…
I am, gradually,degree by degree,withdrawing myself from the world.Our raging world of explanations,rationalizations, reasons,the one that carries a cadaverousexistence of…
Once upon a time in the village of Rebourn lived a grandmother with her two adorable grandchildren. The village known…