For me. For you. For us.
It’s premature to think you’ve got me,
Though I’m weakened and pitiful,
Trashing around, like a wounded animal,
One second from bitting off my foot.
It’s my life and my choosing,
When you see me bleeding, caught in a trap,
Instead of gloating, you should be asking –
Is there a chance I wanted it to end, like that?
we wrote and forged through the life of love and loss...
Motherhood and Addiction
A writer with no name 👽
writer, reader, naturelover, conservationist
I am a cocktail mixed of Fire & Ice. I can be an angel & become a devil next moment, But trust me if you are good to me u will see my wings.
Adorn the Traditional
my sweet escape
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