How imprisoning
our liberty seems when we've...
Give chance to healing
not to the wound, by being...
Before the stifling winds reach
the nape of my neck...
I have homeless knots
hanging in my closet...
and as the clock approaches
the last minutes of the night...
i don’t know, I wish I knew
but i don’t know...
A gadfly
Buzzes...
I have seen THE horror
of where the truth...
Was it always this way,
or just my oblivion was the sleigh...
My poetry is not poetry really,
if poetry is doomed...
The sadness creeps in,
unsuspected, unwanted...
if tomorrow you ask how i am,
i'm not sure how i'll respond...