the dial hums halfway between proselytic gibberish and the morning news and i hear...
Poetry
I painted my fingernails this morning.
They look even fresher under the traffic lights. Right now,
There’s nothing but the whizz of my car
And the bellowing echoes of my thoughts.
It’s raining.
A pitter patter of summer monsoon
the dial hums halfway between proselytic gibberish and the morning news and i hear...
Against the rose petals my broken mind lay Between the ribs of the cold metal my soul sways As I...
Saya couldn’t make herself walk into that room. It reeked of disinfected memories and decay which...
It’s nine already. You have three and a half hours today – to do anything, be...
She held the patient eye of the poet gazing into an impossible future across oceans...
In case of emergency pick the thread out from between your teeth bite your tongue until it...
The lightless flux is a cacophony this time of night.A dark violet hue ripples and curls around...
I don’t know much about numbers.
Those timelines, circles,
the circumstances of diameters.
Mindful glances and dizzying views. these roads are many, they lock into each other. weaving...