From now,
most of the times
I will feel as if
I was walking around
with no skin
That I will
live as one big
exposed open wound
And every glance
my way
will feel like salt
-a sorry note for my future self
YOU ARE READING
an ocean of teardrops
PoetryI avoid surfaces with reflections, avoid facing reality. At the sea, where I last washed away my scars only to have them appear in different places, different faces. And so I try comforting myself through imaginary conversations with the people I lo...
