Tired and brown the river winds down Through mudflats and derelict houses. Its steady stream gazed upon by lovers, Thieves, and untainted children. Its water
They. Came at midnight. Reduced me to no-thing. The voices in my head All came from within me. How could it be any other way?
I chase fiery tigers’ tails. Sometimes they burn my fingers. I cool my fingers in turquoise waters While the tranquil waters of the lake Play
I am a child soldier and I have never seen The plains of Africa. My battlefields are The living rooms of tired tenement blocks, And
Anna Rism She arrives like the dark. Unannounced. Invites herself in without asking and Starts consuming everything. I’ve screamed at her. Yelled at her. Even
I have seen the dark. I have seen the light. I know which one I prefer. One preferably without shadows. Especially the ones not yet