poetry
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Asleep Underground
Who am I in the mind of a critic? Nothing but a tryhard and a decrepit. What do I look like in the eyes of a doubter? A small and rotten, wilting flower. Continue reading
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Six Feet Under
Plants die, animals too. Dreams do not. They cling to you. Push them aside or under your bed. They stay in your heart, echo in your head. Continue reading
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Miss You
The Chainsmokers are on air pairs making out everywhere I act like I don’t care but I miss you Continue reading
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Teal
Teal is the color of confidence. Heel is the tip of grandiloquence. Meal is the switch for deference. Reel is the half of codependence. Continue reading
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The Wise One
The wise one speaks not when dining Let the others hog the spotlight while eating What’s the use of righting a braggart’s mistake When you can just enjoy the juicy steak? Continue reading
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Nocturnal Imagination
Tried pills and apps and green potions To banish your disease: nocturnal imagination. They would not work in this caffeinated world So you remained in bed, twisted and curled. Continue reading
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Pity is the Man
Pity is the man who stands taller by throwing mud on someone’s face, feels stronger by kicking sand over someone’s name, gets wiser by poking fun at someone’s mistake, lives by faking— Continue reading
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Wanderlust
Sometimes I’d like to bathe in seawater salty, blue, and foamy for the water from the shower could never be like that. Continue reading
Xeno Hemlock 