Poems from Cedmond
The cold fingers of your memories cling to the back of my neck, to the back of my mind the same way the tears grab at my eyes. The scent of...
There's a dark angsty touch of the time 12 am. She envelopes the sky with her pitch black hands, cooly but securely setting me in the...
When the world started to fear me,
And I it.
When the color of my skin
Came before any of my intentions.
When I realized I no longer had...