our breath exchange is paused. lingering …
Today, I’m snuffing red rose petals remembering those times before social media when I would write poems not status updates.
I love … that poetry never truly achieves its original or specific goal, but touches upon another deeply and with no remorse.
because I can tell you’re the type that likes to be able to tell when a metaphor is a metaphor and when it isn’t
an unfortunate account of my first time in publishing If you asked me how I am feeling right now, the answer would be sad but simple: broken. I feel raw…
