To every longing heart.
He scratched her, He spat on her, And with clenched fists he punched her, but not before those eyes he bore, left her battered with all of its examinations and impermissible longings.
By Helen Joy8 days ago in Poets
~~~ I could feel the thump of my heart, the burn in my chest, and all through that, the soreness of my feet as I pushed my way through the murk.
By Helen Joy9 days ago in Fiction
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