Every poem Yet for another yearning soul I would say every stanza vomits a rare fever embedded in my horizons Questions from starving minds Alter my heart Enclosed with doubt in their hearts Breathing the affliction into empty souls For every line I wrote There was a cloud formed from smoke. Image Source: Pexels, Andrea…

The bottles fall to the floor in pairs, anti-depressants are a waste of your welfare  and therapy is another quack  to flare up buried sorrows.  Empty,  oh, I see,  this time, the world has turned against me,  I walk in shame  afraid someone might recognize me as another lame flack.  I whisper in shadows  scared…

The first time  your eyes clicked with mine I felt my walls being broken down, my worlds being torn apart, you were smart,  but your smile was far from your frown. You were as cold as ice,  and I thought I could be the fire, if only I had known the bridge burner also catches…

sour, the sight of your cries, heart wrenching  but my sweet words to coux you ain’t enough,  your doe-like eyes  tear up my heart,  like fine tea reaping in the vines,  your beauty catches every eye, your lies are like a tickle on my heart, as your sweet lips part  memories of the scars you…

Two letters under the covers. I recover as I stare at the innocent self-satisfied writings under my bed, I count inside my head three to five years totally wasted,  two years left, i tilt my head,  looking at my reflection ahead, you heard he was never gonna be enough  yet you stayed, you heard that…