The Stolen Heart

She lifts her gaze - her eyes now blaze, two icy stars in endless night. She gives it back, in mournful daze: my heart - it cracks, has l...

They took her head. Not out of cruelty, but out of habit. They wrapped her in coarse fabric, called it order, called it protection.

They wanted to possess her and called it love. They wanted to dominate her and called it protection. They wanted to destroy her and calle...

Upon a chair of solemn wood, She sat - as only madness could - In garments torn by Time’s decree, Betwixt the womb and mockery.

Received at midnight. The package stood at my door. No sender. No sound when it was placed. Only a silent pressure at the nape of my neck...

Silence can be loud. Light can heal quietly

She sat in dusk, in silent gloom, her gaze as hard as stone.
A bleeding heart, a crimson plume, was fastened to her bone.

Meet Ken and Barbie. They’re totally trendy, ultra aesthetic, the perfect couple in every feed. She wears Prada, he drives a Maserati. Th...

I wear the mask, not out of fear, but just to keep breathing.

My eyes are burning, not from truth, but from duration.

Poetry