Mysticism spoke her name Clouds wrote messages for her in the sky
Angels called…

A poem

The mystical fire that smolders in my veins even when the fear creeps in
Whispering to trust my…

The pitter-patter of the rain Drops softly incessantly above me on my roof
Winds blowing ever…

Burgeoning inside you
Not willing to live without the need to use your hands, your heart to touch
The intangible emotions that you…

Sometimes I spiral back to the pain
As I sat passively taking the physical slaps, harsh words, the black and blue marks on my face
Tears…