Blisters
From the Blog randomlyabstract If a poem could hold even half the burden I am carrying inside and give me peace (I ask a bit) I’d write it. But heart is wild and I have stepped into fire so my face and feet are burning. A paper is too far away. I got a brush sitting near so I hold it to the flames because I know I know that if I try I can turn them blue like skies or water and it won’t hurt anymore but you see, it just melted in my hand and I only got more blisters. *Trust me I wanted to heal.* Your promised land of perfect endings now dances before my eyes: it’s full of rainbows, calm skies, butterflies and roses combined. But oh destiny unkind! My throat chokes and scars scream and fingers just don’t reach. My fingers just don’t reach. Filed under: 2015 pakistanblogs.blogspot.comRead Full Post
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