Follow my writings on https://www.yourquote.in/ideasmithy #yourquote

Broken hearts taste like glass shards in old wine.

My affection, it grew like a tree Reaching out words like branches Chopped & sanded till you swept up the…

Poetry comes rolling out of my pursed lips like smoke curling under the door. Somebody’s going to get burnt soon.

Pretty notions, like faint moisture on her hands in the sunlight, glistened, refracted and vanished into thin air.

  The memory of him clings to the tips of her hair, like the first rain that they got caught…

The first was a warrior; he broke my heart to pieces The second an artist; he sculpted them into beauty…

Intimacy in brief, blinding flashes, like light reflecting off a knife’s edge, between our cold, hard selves.

Memories. His, thunder through her mind just like his footsteps when she was asleep. Hers, splash onto his eyes, making…