poetry

that dark patchin a corner of the housereminderof time leavingimprinting it’s presence

silently and screaming withered i

saying ceasefire does not account to anything except your verbosity

i have no interest in the outside, never did. I want to live in solitude and embrace myself.sometimes i peep

almost end of winters ,continuation of life is circular. it is not in ending but in continuation that life exists