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Literature Text
your attempts to hold me above
the surface of bleeding rose oceans
were weak and half-hearted,
I fell through the cracks
between your fingers;
drowning in the sea of betrayal.
the surface of bleeding rose oceans
were weak and half-hearted,
I fell through the cracks
between your fingers;
drowning in the sea of betrayal.
Literature
.
you’ve got the heart of a lion
in a glass chest
Literature
pollutant.
he is a boy devoid of sharp colours, rises
like a distant sun fragmented through city
smoke plumes, he paints skies grey, he
dilutes turquoise seas, he is always a shade
of nothing. his girl, she dresses him in clown
colours, masks the void with scarlet smiles
and peacock feathers, but the hues all fade
under his watercolour touch. i used to love
him, but he stripped even the lightest shades
of happiness down to something faded,
something missing. dreams in greyscale,
life in sepia, i ate blood oranges and painted
my skin pomegranate and clashed so
beautifully with his frown i think he forgot to
cry when i left, dressed in theatre costumes
Literature
reconnoiter
i.
she was
drunk on fire
and tight-lipped missives
and let her thighs
fly off
the tip of
his tongue
she crossed her own resolve
and let it lie
in the corner
next to eyeliner
and clipped drums
the pound
of flesh
in selective spectacle
edging out
the fear
of excess
replacing it
with dear haze
and dress
ii.
his mouth gushed
with the rush
of platelets
lush from
the cut
in his makeshift aegis
a handful
of dumb phrases
plastered on
his steering wheel,
dangerous
he closed his eyes
to escape
and found aches
his hammered hull
had never
tasted
he was wasted
on sheer page
and stress
iii.
at an ornate pace
they rest
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