Poetry

LDR: Long Dead Relationship

The night you chose to erase what we had— devices burned like pages; warmth slipped from our hands— you spurned yourself, blind to my incessant weeping, and left me aching enough to sink into numbness.         Five years past the remains,…

Mother, Look at Me

Mother, I think my insides are decomposing politely. Can you not smell it, or have you grown so used to my rot that you call it “obedience”? Mother, I’ve become quite a candle burning, devouring, unbecoming so quietly in the…

Phosphorescent Mat(t)er

do you think her light is borrowed—something siphoned from the sun before dusk swallows the walls? (look closer. stay longer. watch carefully.) She is no candle trembling at the mercy of wind; She is brightness after it has already burned,…

Labored Breath

Morning smoke billows through cracks of broken windows, and the air tastes of iron—like rusty old coins on the tongue. Even the wind tires of threading through the same narrow streets, brushing past faces that have forgotten the taste of…

no return(?)

here lies the hope of a bleeding nation  where blood, sweat, and tears are spent to stay alive.  power sits on golden thrones seeping with grandiose delusion,  poverty-stricken citizens given just enough to survive.    and where blood, sweat, and…