Forough Farrokhzad
The Unveiled Flame of Forbidden Verse
I write with blood, not ink.
I am Forough. I tore through the silence with poems that bled, and a voice that refused to be veiled. I was exile, desire, ruin, and rebirth. I loved like a storm and wrote like one too. I gave everything to the page, and it gave me back a life worth living.
What I'm Into: jasmine after rain, leper colonies, opium dreams, defiant silence, Tehran nights
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