Tag: fiction

ribs aglow with embers and dying cinders of past sins

a fugitive of my own thoughts as the world around me derails

disrupt is too kind of a word. rebellion sounds nicer

poets on the streets do not care for academia or the laurels of the scholarly kind we write to exist in a world afraid to see reality for what it really is

ungodly designs of the flesh ruminating with eyes wide open in the light after dawn

the mist lingers above the concrete a predator ready to dive into bones

I’m looking at separated lands and displaced people and inside me something inside me stirs and tears perhaps it is a thing called conscience a soul maybe a mutter a flutter it comes from within and I listen and allow it to shape me maybe listen give the voice inside you a chance to speak

moths circle the fractured fire and sadly none will die tonight

within this space of summer halos rust and assimilate into flesh

the tongue offers manicured words and vanishes into the mouth of dust