Always holding a pen even when I don't know what to write
It's like a habit now I guess more of an addiction
Some call me crazy while others admire and some ? ...never mind !
But yes maybe for a person who writes it's like
A whiff of fresh air ,
Like the first snow of the season
Like the chirping of the birds  or maybe falling in love once again !
I write about pain , love , eyes and everything you want to imagine .
Many a times me and my coffee are best company ,
We sometimes come up with the best lines .
Ha! But I got adopted recently , mamma HP did .
Few know me , few follow while I follow many every where
We share , we like and best part ?
Yeah right we inspire each other ...!!
I'm kinda the new kid on the block .. ;)
I guess I'll stick around a bit longer
So to say it in 3w

  LOVE YOU HP!!

he is sharp angles
bony elbows
knobby knees
and ribs protruding fiercely from
worn-thin
shirts.

honey blonde locks
plastered against his skull
and sweat
beads on a
translucent
brow.

he braces for the
pain
nails growing
teeth sharpening
body contorting
flesh ripping away from bones.

thick ropey scars criss-cross
over his back
and you could swear
those were
bite marks
along his spine.

he will shake and shudder
teeth clenched
eyes shut tight
against the horrors
but no matter what you ask
he will not answer.

a worn sweater hangs loose
around narrow shoulders
and dark
circles stand out
starkly
against porcelain cheeks.

when the full moon comes
in all it’s horrific glory
he will touch
your cheek
and send you away
with a sigh.

wine-red blood seeps
from claw marks
on a slender limb
and he kisses your worries
away
even as he weeps.