Saturday, 22 February 2014


Those words-
They roam - restless spirits
While burgeoning,
Suffocating feelings
Try to pin them down.
The tumult, within,
Of these wandering, wayward
Wanton, vagabonds-
They will not let me be. 
I shift.
Bend. Struggle.
And my heart fills.
Chest constricts.
The lull. 
The eye of this hurricane
It is too still. 
My dearest
You'd better stick around
To pick up the pieces.
22 February, 2014
When papers chain one down, the only thing to do is go bonkers, with writes like these :D

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