on me

Not the storm, not the thunder - What tucks me in sweat Every night Are the masks hanging on my ceiling.   Impeccable lines of live blood Hover over me; Grinning on my sanity, Slowly slipping away.   I snap the ceiling, piece by piece, Pulling away at the threads. The masks drop and make... Continue Reading →

polka dots and stripes

    You are my polka dot and stripe On a fabric of whirlpool. I trace along the lines But cannot seem to find you. Hidden, you curve yourself To the world, That obliviously remains under you. My fingers hit the cracks And the patches that people admire, But they feel rough to me. My... Continue Reading →

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