When
hate
becomes our wanted respite,
not the word
really
just the spillage,
the need
to empty our soul
such energy
uglies the mind
such a degree we may no longer know
or
imagine what we once
adored
sweet elegance,
soft mystique
whispers
this certain
love
 | a quiet man on Thoughts |
 | Abhishek pathania on Dark Winds |
| a quiet man on Mourning |
 | erroneouschoices on Mourning |
| a quiet man on When In Love |
A collection of beautiful thoughts, pictures and information
A blog of my struggles with mental illness, social isolation and being transgender n a hostile world.
I read, I write, I sketch. For fun.
Some Things Are Better Off Read
The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination- Albert Einstein
Poetry and words
A place where you can be human.
Poetry that purrs. It's reowr because the cat said so.
Introspections artistry externalized
Sharing my little corner of the world
A Place to Enjoy the Beauty All Around us.
Maximum Exposure
Every now and then my head is racing with thoughts so I put pen to paper
Downpour
Brett Kristian
"She believed she could, so she did." 🌙
Fleeting Emotions, perpetual words.
