I let my soul blister, melt and drift in resentment. I’ve been in the ghettos where lovers hide their sins, marks of desperation clutches the fading outline of what affection ever would have felt like. This moment I breathe because I remember my name, the next moment I know I’ll be a background foray in Monet’s painting.

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Shivani M

Shivani M

I really have no clue what's happening