Poems from ajs1993

The flowers are whispering again and when I go to crumble their petals in my bruised fist they laugh at me and assemble back together and I...
I knew a boy who liked to paint, each piece a tessselation, a labyrinth of color and jagged edges. Some so loud I cowered, hands over ears...
I don't know much about NAPOLEON other than his bright blue buttons and how he ate leaves in Russia   hoping to understand the way that...
You'll sit on a friend's chair, hands fumbling in your lap as bright red tresses float down Like leaves in autumn. When you look in the...
Look, there’s a reason they call us “survivors” and “warriors.” We wake up in the middle of the night, eyes staring into the glow-in-the-...