Description of the Book:
 
This heart is a wretched thing. It is a pity we realize it too late.

Though we are taught since a young age that it is an involuntary organ - it is much later in life that we understand what it truly means. It behaves like a spoilt child. It will cry for what it wants and no amount of coaxing will stop it from crying. It is like a pup that doesn't realise it has been abandoned and no one will come for it.

This heart is a treacherous thing. It should know better than to keep on self sabotaging. It should know better than to want to stand in front of a moving truck. It should know better than dream about jumping from a bridge. It should know better than to stand on the edge of a ten storeyed building and almost give in to the urge of leaping, to answer the 'L'appel du Vide'.

So dear readers, this melee of poems was born out of necessity to tame this wicked thing and learn to hold my heart closer to my chest than to someone else's.