Tags » My Poetry

The Winds of Change

I know it’s not winter yet, but I wrote this:

The wind, curling, meandering
stealthily shares its history

slinking, down alleys, seeping around
every entity, into the bones of life… 105 more words

My Poetry

The Beautiful Slaughter

Do you realise what you’re doing?
You’re killing me. This is called ‘murder’.

But… hold on… you’ve already killed me.
So you can’t kill me again. 25 more words

My Poetry

A Trauma Theory

It was my third year in college when I first heard the term string theory.
I remember moving forward slightly, anxious for what
he’d say next, and as the professor strolled over… 345 more words

My Poetry