patchwork
Look at the stitches across my skin. Each is one a different pattern: The teddy bears of infancy and innocence; The bubbles of childhood and optimism; The clouds of adolescent…
Burn
Flares could cave in on my skin. Hot red flares burning my skin. Why did partake in such sin? To touch the amber gloss of her skin, hot red flares…
melancholy
Where the water is dry, Where the fire is wet, A river of tears stream from my eyes. Where the sun is dark and gray, and the sky is mucky…
Legacy
When we fade into the darkness, who remembers us? Are we nothing more than the dust we return to when our time is up? I remember when I was young,…
Abnegation
“Lose yourself in the art of selflessness,” they say. Lose yourself in the art of forgetting yourself by dedicating your heart to the meek, the poor, the hungry, the homeless,…
hear
Her eyes are a festival of warm tears; her ears are a melody of cold fears,for the aria she once heard has turned black—black as a tire that has hit…
