mili

Hi I write prose and poems that I start to hate a day after posting

[milioho]

I read scars on your forehead

To pry at wounds which bruised you helpless

It told me shots you aimed but never hit

Breathes that suffocated your gasped plea

While your hands worn off cold from waiting too long

Because your deity never relived a life,

And you greed to live it again

For a revenge that doesn't turn you into a rebel– but honors with an ego that burns those scars till they never dare to ache again.

[milioho]

You stitched my spirit, fastening knots you never thought of undoing.

[milioho]

Slipping through my fingers all the time.

[milioho]

An excerpt from the prose— "I am a lover, unaddressed"

[milioho]

[milioho]

Oh dear, when anguish trickled down your nerves, I felt it weigh down the tip of your pen. When guilt sored your throat, I felt your pen lose the ink.

Dear, I wish you composed more than you suppressed—draw on me things only a ghost could guess.

—from the pages of your diary.

@mili

[milioho]

Perhaps, I had most of the things a child needs; and a lot I was forced to have.

I lived in fleeting thoughts, a fractured house and an undone home.

@mili

[milioho]

Even though my leaves have withered, I cannot endure my fall. I'm afraid that seasons will steal my presence—for I will bear witness to a new sprout unfurling while I lay decayed beneath the moss.

@mili

[milioho]

I used to make edits (at amino)