But my screams are real.
They aren't painted,
But left my soul tainted.
Maybe that would heal me.
But my tears are real.
They aren't because of a war,
But still shook me to the core.
Can someone steal them?
Maybe that would heal me.
But my sad messages are real.
They have no news about a dead husband,
But my heart is bludgeoned.
Can someone steal them?
Maybe that would heal me.
I am not Van Gogh,
But my expressionism in poetry is real.
They aren't avant-garde,
But I feel charred.
Can someone steal them?
Maybe that would heal me.
I am not a legendary artist,
But my emotions are real.
Let me feel them;
Maybe that would heal me.
~ Kanika Kaushal ✨ The Luminous Muse
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