Ill-timed.

“April is the cruelest month, breeding
lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
memory and desire, stirring
dull roots with spring rain.”

— T.S. Eliot (The Waste Land)

Published by killgwen

Tell me how do my writings make you feel. Tell me how does your heart feel today. The good, the bad, the in-between, Or even the ones that were unclear to see. I wanna know the visual in your mind, and the spectrum of colours vivid in your heart and eyes. -- I write not because I want to, because I need to. I don't stay up to write, I write so that I can fall asleep. Talk to me.

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