Category: Poems
Sonnet #1: Our Own Élan Vital
Her kiss leaves blood for me to fore’er taste; (Drowning within one’s insecurities.)
Childlike Truth
You think I’m pretty, innocent, and sweet/ Yet innocence and sweet is not what I’ve seen
Beautiful Speech
Your body flies on a carriage of wind/ To land aloft upon the ears of humanity/ The question is always does it fit the trend?/ Alas, tyranny of the majority is the calamity.
Spilled Blood
There's no use crying over spilled blood / she hums, scrubbing