Category: Poetry & Prose

These malformed deficiencies of my soul Pull the strings of judgement, condemnation Navigating a fractured landscape, blind Projecting my own discretions tenfold Crashing against the

I trusted Closed my eyes Bowed my head Opened my mouth Trusting That even if The taste Was repulsive It was what Was good For

I’ve finally Come up With an ending But I Don’t think You’re going To like it It involves The holding Of one’s Breath A submersion

Try as I may There is no denying The intricacies In your way That leave behind An ache for more The fingers trace Delicate footfalls

I wasn’t quite dead But you buried Me anyway It wasn’t much Of a ceremony But what Did I expect I wish this hole Was