I’m a hoarder of moments, desperate to find gold in paper,
Something that I had missed before, like an echoing smile.
I walk in my loving, sweet Danse Macabre,
My fruitless attempt to make “treasure” worthwhile.
Tag: poet
Reality Revisited: Insomnia
I would like a conversation, where we talk about life and living and what it all means. Maybe after, my brain will turn into liquid and drip into dreams.
As Told By Ivor Steven
Our true love ran deep
Cascading over hidden rocks
May Recap!
In case you missed anything from May…
As Told By Kenny: For a Friend
I thought I saw you yesterday. Standing in the queue.
But then again, it can’t have been you.
As Told By Aneesha
Did you fall into the trap
Of raking memories
Kept under a wrap?
The Difference of Missing Someone Who Can Come Back
When I miss Mummy, there is a gentle simplicity in my suffering. In a way, it is complete, it is a cycle that has been fulfilled, and…… Read more “The Difference of Missing Someone Who Can Come Back”