2.3.14.

2.3.14.

And that day the wind wasn’t screaming vile. The midst was clean. There were no thoughts to hide. . There was no golden rule. Claiming impossible things. There was no one left to please. No one left to love. The earth didn’t cry out for no good reason. That day it was you, with all your curtains lost and all your skeletons named. In your heart the drumroll cried. You wanted this. You could not lie.

– Momina Arif

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