life is a game we play
for this soul no longer exists
obscurity is the nameless god
blurry face is the lamented worshiper
my body a temple ruin
running thoughts through the mind
a death trap maze
my tongue governed
its whispered name politicized
my eyes warrants of self murderous thoughts
my hands restless with the blood of my relatives
their sins bathe me crimson - 
their voices muffled into pangs of self-righteous beliefs
the tree of family
with its rope branch hugging my neck 
my eyes sparkle with faded dreams
overshadowing leaves stretching over my very being
unable to become my own icarus
my wings have long since melted
within the scalding flames of love.

shackled dreams

You say if you could fly,

you’d never walk on earth.

For you only have eyes for that faded,

blue sky.

You know if you can just break free,

you’ll find what you seek.

So keep trying to release yourself,

to that faded,

blue sky.

a dreamers lament

for someone with their head constantly in the clouds


can sometimes feel

like a thunderous


waking you out of peaceful reverie

stealing the wonders

 of the ethereal


parts of the world and


reality is often painful

ceaseless reminder

that to live in this world

is to conform.

but this is not life.

for dreamers

it is existing.

it is torture

for those intoxicated

by the foggy

airiness of the


Featured Image Bennie Rose

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the obscure hall and its hollow walls

I am wandering around the obscure walls

of the sunken place

searching its oblique halls

and I can’t see past the darkness and the emptiness.

there is only hollowness.

I am alone,


unable to fathom my surroundings.

It is as if the hollowness of this place

came to hollow me out.

It reverberates through me

and in currents I am

nothing and everything

– this oscillation is undoing me, irrevocably.

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