Delirium
A poem of delirium when the pain has transcended escape.
Poetry
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Poetrotica
They says poets are just plain horny and boys with guitars are just trying to get laid. Well..I am a poet. And I can write in goosebumps scattered across your skin, like Braille for the words-impaired. My language could lie in words all over your body. And making love to…
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Poetic Justice
Your body language speaks your name. I have only my words. I’m a bundle of all things that hide inside “I’m okay.”
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Someone Who Looks At Facebook Pictures of Strangers
Two strangers who once were not. Or were they?
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The Past As Dirty Secrets
“as if the past is a monster, a trap, not a blanket of known thorns, an old jacket that just fits too tight in the same way a corset does”
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Pockets Of Courage
Inside my pockets, I keep pieces of courage, to reach for when I need them.
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Nila Soru
Nila soru.
Food eaten under the moon.
Food shared with the moon.
Nila soru. -
City | Map Of Emotion | Poetry | Relationships | Roving I
Patchwork Relationship
All of you homesick for the sickness of love, hating yourself for thinking of an ex, propping yourself on memories of a relationship, wondering if healing will ever be clean. It won’t. It can still be beautiful. Includes a podcast performance.
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Music Lessons With Lolita
“Eena, I sang for an hour today”, says Lolita to her imaginary friend.
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Books | Poetry | Pop Culture
Whirling Dervish
I hope the whirling never ends. Then I remember, nothing is endless.
