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Broken Glass

No I won’t Hear your words They slide out of your mouth And right into the palms of your hands You offer them up For me to chew and swallow I don’t want their pleasing aroma To trick me into indulging in the mirage of their existence I scoop of shreds of broken glass FromContinue reading “Broken Glass”


Your form lingers on my teeth Arms lazily stretched out, A force With an unapologetic skin That sticks thick and opaque You casually drop in as you please And I scramble at your feet, tripping over the words I set in concrete not an hour before You came in your chariot, dear Kalopsia And IContinue reading “Kalopsia”


Here you go, The shelves are up It’s up to you to stack yourselves up on top of them, it’s not on me anymore It was always a thankless job anyway But you, you don’t disperse and scatter without me there shouldering you, like I had imagined you would Without missing a beat, you tieContinue reading “Shelves”


Concrete walls lick me once-over Grey and impersonal, It’s just a perfunctory gesture And it’s here that I hang, Upside down with nowhere to go But back up from where I came Cacti, they spring out from the walls, A prickly invasion Designed to throw me off And yet I grit my teeth And myContinue reading “Cacti”

Brewing. Threading.

She’s a kind of acid And I roll her between my fingers To throw a lump on my eye It catches and it sticks, Hungrily eating up the trail of flesh that circles there Trailing a skip and a jump of red sores behind her steps She strips off, uninhibited Her flesh shredding off inContinue reading “Brewing. Threading.”

So much darkness It’s undulating form Swallows me back, to the very pit of its belly Yours is a tight bodice Cinching in at my lungs And forcing me in this recumbent position And it seems like we’re all just here to drink down merriment and swallow breaths back To dissipate the fear of thisContinue reading

Stockholm Syndrome

Can we surrender Into your arms? They seem so sturdy And yet, I hesitate. I’m still bruised from the last fall, When I fell and kept falling, no one catching me , no one to break the fall I remember; My body as it plunged towards the wooden floor, Followed by quick successions of aContinue reading “Stockholm Syndrome”

The Illegitimate Child

How is that I mourn you, Having not know of your existence until now? Your form before me is confusing And I know not how I should react. Should I approach you, and dare to acknowledge the heat that you’re emitting? Or should our muscles tense as we begin a ridiculous dance around one another,Continue reading “The Illegitimate Child”