Beyond the vast icy landscapes Far from the othering city There’s someone waiting for me In my favorite dreamscape. God knows I’ve been waiting for h…
Progression or depression, it depends on the portends. But never regression.
Crush my heart And take from me The very passion that is my soul; Rip it out And leave no doubt
Humanity is a tired, jaded, dirty face with bright
Ah, my sincerest apologies. I have a tendency to drop dead In front of gorgeous women.
Betwixt imagination And anxious reality You exist; A phantom. I hear you
Smile at me you vixen, melt me and step your red stiletto in the puddle,
Is it too much to ask for, The self being contained Under the snow of your eyes Reaching out, never quite grasping The height of the situation.
I have that swipe keyboard on my phone where I draw a line between the letters to write the w… Sometimes, it mistakes the word
Around her neck Hangs an emerald line, Dotted with sun-facing flowers; Silky smooth, speaks her mind. This line brings this poet
What is going on Does anybody know For I am lost More so by the day And what is this?
I believe music is the tragedies o… micro-dosed to us. A chord change to minor ends with us crying, a picardy third
I can see you’re still bleeding. I would like to dress your wound, my wound. In my haste I now realize, I bleed too.
Yellow-green leaves lie still Upon the concrete ground. Cars are parked, People are sparse; It is the afternoon.
This headache, these carpenters in my bedroom, pound my respite with no quarter. Just now, I need, despite the con…
