for months, i have held my entails towards heaven, here i am dear god do your best, do your worst but i won’t ask for fire this fever already burns like hell every year in august i count how long a man can disappear without a trace or a word from the other side for bodies decay and spirits die at the hospital the other day, i tried to recall god at their best and at their worst but i don’t forget the fire

you are tracking god by smell the sound takes you by familiar memories, god is a dream planted at conception, where do the adults go when every night is dark and lacks the imagination that births heaven - under the lesser light, you are hounding god in packs :gather yourself into a prayer and howl into the silvery darkness

on my lips are d r o p s of tears and i remember how you tasted when we kissed; salty and sour like the sweat on your skin can i ever find the colours to describe the way you looked from the window of a moving train? that is all i carry with me as tears on my lips -the taste of glass and the memory of my face pressed against the pane of a running craft you were the colours of the sun that woke the morning sky on the day a man left home for the first time

The last day of the year is magical. On no other day is everyone united by hope and dreams of a new tomorrow like New Year’s Eve. From gratitude to resolutions, we are taking stock of our lives, scolding our excesses, planning our journey and being optimistic about a new…

to grieve is to find your voice underwater. it is an unwinding road of discovery. one that opens your mouth, your body to an anger, a fear, a dread, an helplessness, a sunken feeling at the bottom of the ocean. nobody chooses loss. it forces your hand to let go…

We are creatures of cravings. I know this because I have wanted something so badly that I bent into a tragic story, crawling in my weakness, a dying plant searching for water — my existence in one heavily puntuated line. Maybe the point of desire is mostly fruitless. It has…

I was told that I was born in sin and how God has promised to never destroy the earth by water again but will damn me in a fire for eternity if I die in the state I was born in. In the state he created me. Quite an irony…

crush this sadness and it forms a cloud will it rain? acid formed spittle, god is disgusted by my bother so they ask for my faith and i ask for their forgiveness it later rains arrows, is this not abuse? to accept bad as my fault and good as heaven’s blessings cover my face in shame for my lack of belief god has said nothing about my loss yet i make excuses for them why are they not ashamed of their silence?

cheers to what you could be pretty after a wild night beautiful scenes in the morning gardens in the places you lost hope and your body hungover like flowers that grow out of wine bottles so tonight, let’s drink to that