Poetry

MY PERSONAL FAVOURITE.

When a woman and her demons coexist.

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when I create.

veins of pluto, solidifying plum ichor in my trenches sustaining the assemblage of the dark ilk. emollient lilac, your fetching fragrance clings to all the pages in the sanctuary, eternal garden within leather leaves. the fingerprints of my slanted handwriting are supposed to tell a…

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Easily disguised.

a queasy sensation eggs my limbs into shuddering left anointed by the sweat that pools in my chest and reminds me of the anvil that sits there; heavy-limbed and hard of hearing, there must be something that will carve away the diseased edges of this…

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evermore over eternity

every echo is an epiphany of the essence you ended with me; she calls for evermore, deep within the guilt-ridden reminder of their every step towards her, and it is with great trepidation that the last of their kind lay down the guns that have…

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Inquisitorial March.

by the flames of their ire, do the glass panes rattle bitter heartaches and soot-smeared hymns; a cacophony of heresy screams from the center where pastoral eyes and timidly wounded children were demanded to watch the burning of their ilk like dirty laundry aired over…

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