tears fall to a
silent mirth
a breath of fire that
scalds your skin
a flock of crows
on your windowsill
drowning your scream
I browsed through my old notebooks and found some very old poetry written during my 2nd year in college. It was back at that time when I discovered the school paper and the English Literary section and its eccentric, goth girl editor. I guess she's influenced me quite enough to write a lot of morbid stuff in my youth.
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