The only haven for my lost soul. Please let me dive into it.
Prose and Poetry are the only constant in my life. If writing was a poison, I will gladly take a sip on it. Savouring every moment where I could touch the tip of the pen and start to scribble my thoughts. This was a way of survival for me. This is where my heart was breathing. Whenever I hold the taint of the ink, the paper and words starting to resonate, my mind, body and soul bewitched.
It was my dose of serotonin in seclusion madness.
XXII 🇵🇭
Following
