Dried Ink

The First Tale

I remember my first crush. I was barely twelve years old, chubby-cheeked and completely naive. My hands would tremble whenever he walked past me in our school hallway, maintaining the perfectly rhythmic bounce that only ‘big boys’ had. At first, I didn’t understand why my heartbeat would quicken whenever I saw him. I would cry… Continue reading The First Tale

Dried Ink

ROOTS

Often times, we lie to ourselves We find solace in burying our pain deep We forget that these things buried alive  Grow roots and feed off our hearts   We convince ourselves that we are okay  we blind our eyes to our pain Ignoring the constant jabs and pokes at our wounds, Constantly salting it… Continue reading ROOTS