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They gnaw at the edges of me, little sharp-toothed things with hollow eyes, crawling from the cracks in my skull to lap at the marrow of my thoughts. I used to fight them. I used to starve them. But hunger makes them cruel. So now I lay the table. Silver plates of regret, goblets brimming with old wounds, a banquet of memories too raw...

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...

They call her a voice of brown pain, But we’ve heard louder cries, from fields soaked in sacrifice, from mothers who buried sons, not metaphors. They sold us short, for lowercase lines and over-capitalized lies— as if formatting could mask the absence of truth. She speaks of lands she never walked, names wounds she never bore, calls for borders...

Rooted in place, too many things pulling at it. Instead of being nourished, it gives and gives. It withers, draws itself inward, yet the roots are still searching, still trying to give of themselves. It tore itself up by the roots and flew off, not knowing where it was headed. It crashed straight into a wall and fell to the ground. It lay there...

the dots are slowly disconnecting I can see it coming now the register jams more often did I do that and why...or how? 'yes, you told me that remember...? but it's okay everything is fine' the signs are now clear this creeping fear the foggy mist of my decline the familiar sound of the 2 o'clock train snaps me out of my hazy state I move to the...

I awoke this morning in a warm room with hydrostatic thoughts diffusing with the early drip-tension of sunlight. Muscles sore, body slow, I maneuvered through some basic intuitive limbering, stretching the body to fill up the soul, heart, and mind. That was my intention; but then, I didn't really have an initial value for the day, for these chain...

In silence, words disappear, Unspoken—louder than any sound. A heart longs to be understood, But the world is too vast, too harsh. A voice is lost in the noise— Not because it isn’t there, But because it’s afraid to be heard. A soul bears the weight of mistakes, Carrying the heaviness of regret, Trying to mend what was broken. And then—I see...