poem

POETRY / The golden hat

It was not a question one would ask as he did/ With his round glasses at the end of his nose

POETRY / Raw Magnolias

This is a garden, these are my petals; this is my armoring plant

POETRY / burnt honey

i quite like the smell of cloves, even more when they're burning/ turning charcoal in front of my eyes

POETRY / Shut your eyes to dance away the rainy nights

Shut shut let me shut my eyes, for even though / the dawn confiscating the dusk’s shades of greys arrives, / there is no place for me

POETRY / The searing beast

Sweat beads upon my brow, my shirt begins to cling/ The vile monster's tendrils reach out, adhesive

POETRY / I've seen love

I've seen love/ Rolling down from a mother's eyes/ As she picks her lean child, bathed in innocent blood

POETRY / Modern graveyard

We have built a civilisation / of sky-high buildings, / of concrete cities, / of disconnected communities

POETRY / No longer eighteen

like a caterpillar cocooned into its shell undergoing metamorphosis—growing up sneaks up to you whether you want it or not

POETRY / A means to an end

go further than/ what the hills have seen/ through their ice pick scars

June 13, 2024
June 13, 2024

The golden hat

It was not a question one would ask as he did/ With his round glasses at the end of his nose

June 8, 2024
June 8, 2024

burnt honey

i quite like the smell of cloves, even more when they're burning/ turning charcoal in front of my eyes

June 8, 2024
June 8, 2024

Raw Magnolias

This is a garden, these are my petals; this is my armoring plant

June 7, 2024
June 7, 2024

Shut your eyes to dance away the rainy nights

Shut shut let me shut my eyes, for even though / the dawn confiscating the dusk’s shades of greys arrives, / there is no place for me

June 6, 2024
June 6, 2024

The searing beast

Sweat beads upon my brow, my shirt begins to cling/ The vile monster's tendrils reach out, adhesive

June 1, 2024
June 1, 2024

I've seen love

I've seen love/ Rolling down from a mother's eyes/ As she picks her lean child, bathed in innocent blood

June 1, 2024
June 1, 2024

No longer eighteen

like a caterpillar cocooned into its shell undergoing metamorphosis—growing up sneaks up to you whether you want it or not

June 1, 2024
June 1, 2024

Modern graveyard

We have built a civilisation / of sky-high buildings, / of concrete cities, / of disconnected communities

May 30, 2024
May 30, 2024

A means to an end

go further than/ what the hills have seen/ through their ice pick scars

May 30, 2024
May 30, 2024

House of Cards

Welcome, weary traveler! To my humble abode. Come, come. I'll show you

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