I find it ridiculous When I look at things now The amount of care I took To lock it all away, careful To never allow
Category: Poetry & Prose
Brackish
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
Life’s Yellow Stains
i thought the screams would be more significant echo, sustain, at the very least tremble, shake the foundation, crack the plaster, split the glass but
The Paradox of Self
a split lip awakens and remembers bare knuckle deep into the wastewater of past haunts evoking that fond, sick memory of the fanciful martyr, someone
What They Don’t See
They asked me why I don’t often write of the vastness of stars tides of the sea a flower’s bloom bathed in a kiss of
False Beasts
A want for destruction Held by A lack of faith In the oneself Wrapped in your Pious hope Choking on Identity indignation And the suffering
The Stories In Between 