I shed my tears
infinite and ceaseless,
like a lovelorn soul.
Yet I hold myself
& walk so far
far as a distant memory,
which is still stuck
to my shapeless heart.
I have become an incessant river
weightless and yet so full,
a heart made of fuchsia flowers.


By Shreya Sharma

I read poems. Sometimes I write poems. And when I am doing nothing, I am sipping coffee.


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