It’s crumbling
Aging unlike wine
Soon it won’t even exist
Everything tastes yummy
Before it hits my tummy
Two years
Of stabbing myself
With a pen
Is what it took
To bleed ink
Onto the page
Instead of blood
Live. Love. Write.
Words are the only thing left holding me together.
Beautifully Chaotic
Faith+Perseverance + The ability to make your dream a reality!!!
My life is my art, language is my canvas
"At intervals the clang of a strange bell shivered over the onyx city, answered each time by a peal of mystic music made up of horns, viols, and chanting voices." - H.P. Lovecraft, 'The Dreamquest of Unknown Kadath'
A glimpse into the overgrown paths and unchecked wilderness of my mind.
A Social Phobic's Interpretation & Decoration of Poetical Ideas, Messages, Information and Resources.
Thoughts and writings reflecting the poet within and the activist
