i look out of my window, assuming that you are looking out of yours at the same time. as if our sight is penetrating through these mazes of towers and buildings, and we are looking directly at each other. but in front of me there are two sunflowers, a song whose name i know not … Continue reading assuming
On this wheelchair, I sit And look upon the grass From my window pane While knitting words Into poetries. I'm eighty-seven Ancient and fragile With ebbs over my skin And folds on my body. I wear roses And a sunflower or two. Only yesterday, I was fifty-three Combing my hair into a bun With a … Continue reading Thoughts on a wheelchair
I live in the ashtray In the hours of darkness, I couldn't sing And the days when I fumble with the blade Unable to write a thing. I paint my nails black And of my blood, I take a sip And it burns my throat While it touches my lips. I write with white ink … Continue reading Stay dead without much ado.
Here I see A green nail polish Nail polish of green colour It changes its hue At you and me Paint us Yellow and Violet And I hear it sing And it sings to me The song of white roses and red colour And all the things I cannot see I smell their vintage aroma … Continue reading Green Nailpolish.
I. I then smiled At the devil Who was standing Not with pointed red horns Or a red cape Or teeth so sharp That makes me gulp in fear But in a crisp black shirt That had a silver tie And he smiled back And at that moment I knew My life was over. II. … Continue reading The Death Series.
Oh, what I have become A whirlpool Dancing in the penumbra Marked by shadows and moon. Oh what I have become A demon Gnawing at my inner self Not choosing to lose. Oh what I have become A star Gazing at humans from above Sitting in the clouds, aloof. Oh what I have become A … Continue reading What I wanted to be
I stood aghast, ludicrously asking myself questions of fate while the broken rapports barked at my face. Being listless, I sat down on an armchair only to find myself staring at the ceiling. I gulped on my saliva and anyone could witness my throat bob. I closed my eyes to feel a bit more bejade … Continue reading Betrayal. Desire. Agony.