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Life is harsh to the one who consents to be touched by it. Most withdraw early, erecting high, polished walls of indifference - I do not condemn them; their fortress serves them well. Yet what they gain in safety, they surrender in all else. Only later, when the mirror no longer flatters, does the fierce hunger begin to loosen its jaws. Then...

thousands of miles from where my name means something in a city where no one knows me— it still feels like home. not the warm kind. not the kind with open arms and someone waiting at the door. the quieter kind. the colder kind. the kind i’ve known for as long as i can remember. i’ve always known loneliness. it was never loud. just steady. like...

~ “Think of yourself as dead. You have lived your life. Now, take what's left and live it properly. What doesn't transmit light creates its own darkness.” ― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations ~ I looked back and saw kindergarten Memories playing vividly in my head Halfway done they said and I asked "Didn't life start just yesterday?" I wonder if it...

I remember your perfume and how its fragrance and your essence made me giddy, like fine champagne from a crystal flute, sparkling, how they made me act the fool and not care as long as I could see you, touch you, inhale you, feel you open yourself to me, but time passed, the chill crept in, and you and my love are shells of themselves since you...

Shackles cast of steel Held by ball and chain Heaving with my shame A pretense of a shield Stench of failure, unclean Decay chanting its creed Encased, the coffin is sealed I claw and try to scream To demons I forcibly kneel Fraying and tearing at seams Body bitter and maimed “Spare yourself and yield” “No!” Shouts a soul...

Only the night matters, its granaries filled with gold, the awakening of the voice. Under the regime of the sun time bends the heart, waiting frays the mind. That's where I survive, among fragments of screams and visions of blue; my dream-horse lost in the desert.

do you feel it? as you walk slowly through the dark, in this fallen neglected labyrinth of the mind, where mold and filth fester upon crumbling walls, and rainwater seeps and falls like tears of the damned, this once great building now diseased and decaying, a parody of the minds once entombed within, can you hear the echoes of the screams? from...