The Sky, My Window
The moon is the PacMan, frozen mid-game, that one bright star its perpetual goal, the last morsel left in the game.
In this world that hasn’t learnt about Windows and screensavers yet, how do you reboot?
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His voice holds me. His words unravel me. And the trouble is the unraveling, the undoing, the blurring continue long after the voice has gone silent, the line cold. Because words, they linger. Burning flesh wounds inside defenses. And everything else feels harder, sharper, steelier. I am in a world…
Twitter Trending Activities: A Poor Show by Social Media Agencies
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Body & Sex | Feminism & Politics | Home & Identity | Map Of Emotion | Poetry | Pop Culture | WorkSpace
The Stage Was My Doorway Out
I’ve had a rather nice September after the rough times before that. Looks like my health diagnosis was a step in the right direction. I took a break from the Open Mic scene for a month which is why there haven’t been too many poetry videos. But if you saw…
Nice!!!!
@Sandman: An old visitor but first-time commentor! How do? 😀