sweet, the skies blurry

sweet, the skies blurry baby, it's raining every time i open my eyes let me write this prose about you doesn't everyone deserve to have poetry dedicated to them? i remember the first poem i received, it was 9 pages long, filled with adolescent heartbreak and sorrow.   sweet, do you want me to write verse… Continue reading sweet, the skies blurry

bēlua verbōrum

oh, defiant philomela my tongue has been cut off mouth gapes wide open, only strangled noises emerge.   she cries, 'still my revenge shall take its proper time' yet, this anger is not part of me this is not the result of some angry, violent hateful act this is just me.