Hands dripping clean of posion,
Romanticizing the rush
Forget the sensuous rhythms, the candlelit flowsThe flame-drenched language and the exaggerated escapades Forget the …What Is Poetry Anyway? A favorite
A-Achoo! She wipes under her nose and leaves a streak of snot on her pointer finger. "When will I get this right?" She questions herself. Everyday around 7pm her anxiety takes control over her mind and she is forced to face the boredom. Boredom is her biggest trigger you know. When nothing seems to satisfy… Continue reading Solving Boredom
The words I want to say dont seem to stay but, you have. You captured me And it is plain to see by the look on your face; You’re not going anywhere. Take me to a place I can erase all these words I can’t seem to say.