A poem so sad

3:09 a.m I think the ache begins at my lower back, The hurt that I got due to an accident Or a muscle collapsing. Things or two it taught me about distraction, and wholesome love. The pain shift to my left angular hand. The palm unfocused, floating in the air a pendulum song. The kneeContinue reading “A poem so sad”

when i die-

you will find ink blurb, parched words, acoustic in air, a hot burning potpourri and my ink romancing with words. this is what i will leave when i die- a torn cloth, stinking souvenirs, words like thick and sick stick to my tongue, a concave road of anxiety on my wrists. for i had noContinue reading “when i die-“

nights that talk of you

A mesh of poetry ascends in my scalp of lights the place punctured by your visits often, in my nocturnal nights of anxiety and suicides. You step on to my body, peeling layers of SCARS\ and you watched POETRY\ C A S C A D I N G in molten, mountain flush of hours. IContinue reading “nights that talk of you”

When -the -pendulum- strikes

During nights, my body becomes a range of chemicals. The nocturnal nails dip in the swamp of black thoughts. My windowsill evaporates, fumes of my detailed miseries. It’s not saddening what my mind does to my hand and arms. My hair bun, all soaked in summer sweat, dripping anxiety like forlorn tales of missing citiesContinue reading “When -the -pendulum- strikes”