-
rip the air from my chest like you’d pluck
the ripened fruit in midsummer; i assure you...
-
No artificial
colours or preservatives...
-
Between these lines, we come to write,
we shall not judge, the black and white...
-
A Woman's face withers
upon a morning sun...
-
My ink runs slow, my mind subdued
So many words, are misconstrued...
-
As seasons pass, there is a day,
I’ll visit where, your bones now lay...
-
-
It's not the fear of drowning
within the ocean of feelings...
-
How sad that I crave the drama of strife
The storms and the gloom that oft puncture my life...
-
You’ve spent summers
in servitude, hearing only...
-
Believe in your true soul
Evolve within your surroundings and...
-
I have a voice that shrieks into the night
to break the shackles of this joyless plight...
-
I feel most at home
when it's raining...