Yekaterina Bezpalaya Biography

I walk through a patch of yellow flowers,
Some have shimmer, some have a glint of gold.

Others invite the sun to play,
...

A pencil, some paper,
a pen, and a chair.
A desk by the window,
and the wind through your hair.
...

No one knows the rocks that burden my shoulder,
breaking bones piece by piece.
No one sees my rapid heartbeats,
as they are drowned by head hard thoughts.
...

The bead from a necklace,
The kiss from a date.

The love from my parents,
...

These hands have touched everything,
as so far goes the truth.
The deep, ridged scars,
are the obvious proof.
...