Living On The Edge : Journey Continues

Every time I could not breathe I wrote. Every time I could not live any more I wrote. Every time I gave up I wrote. Every time I loved too much I wrote. To me writing is synonymous with breathing. My poetry isn’t your polished fancy bouquet that is hand-delivered. It is that wild flower swaying to the rough northern winds and still surviving oblivious to the world outside but dancing to its own rhythm.