From the archives.

I bite my tongue to control it from saying something I mean so much.
I bite it so hard that my mouth turns red with blood.
The taste of which I hate so badly because it doesn’t let me speak of righteousness.
I cut it even more deep to prevent my tears to fall in a wrong situation which will make me look like a bigger loser than I am already.
The pain which shoots up from my tongue towards my head is alarming which warns my head to burst into million small pieces and be symmetrical with the bits of my heart and soul.

Slowing the pain resides and the consciousness recovers only to be left with the irony taste in my mouth.

[This one is from the archives. I couldn’t think of anything to write today]

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