writings

Underneath old stones and brick laid on top of marred soil; no more fertile than the desolate and barren womb of an old and dying and dead animal – perhaps incomplete as a landscape but overflowing and overwhelming as a feeling, a brittle life that emerged; being gently placed in the arms of my mother,… Continue reading ANGELIC NARCISSIST

I chose to feel free on purpose,And freedom was a painted flower on a canvas,Tucked inside the crevasses of myWorkspaceHidden somewhere no one else would see itBut entropy is always at playAnd chaos reins Supreme –If by freedom you meanSpiteful clutter where I hide things and lose things with intentionAnd cultivate a garden of various… Continue reading FREEDOM IS MY BUTTERFLY

Nothing seems real where dreams collide withDisastrous reality,Morning dawn and a careless twist of an armWith nothing more but smoke from blooming lipsThe color of coffee and a tightnessFrom the center of my heart. I watch her dance through words and picturesAnd am captivated by the wayHer words taste like bittersweet chocolateAnd lavender tea. Her… Continue reading A LOVE LETTER

The Moon faintly whistled in my ear,beckoning me.With a light touch and gentle whispershe said,“I see your heart aches,swelling beyond its capacity,filling your chestand stretching your frame.” My eyes glistened in her sweet light.“You are brimming with constellationsthat desire freedom from your eyes.” The truth hidesfrom the easiest solution.And with her I wonder, if she watches… Continue reading THE MOON, MY MOTHER