The emptiness was swallowed. In the end, nothing was left except tired. She took to the pillows with ease. Found her pulse where needle injections hurled insults into the vein. And breathed through another night, absent of light.
Abandoned Voices
The emptiness was swallowed. In the end, nothing was left except tired. She took to the pillows with ease. Found her pulse where needle injections hurled insults into the vein. And breathed through another night, absent of light.
seasons: a poetic journey 