Poems from hannahmay
I really enjoyed how bubbly she and goofy he
lindy hopped on smooth wood
without looking in the studio mirror.
It wasn’t so lovely once...
Our art has no real meaning behind it
And if you ask us, we’ll say
“I made what I wanted, you tell me why”
Then we’ll leave it with you...
The best part of art lies in the subconscious,
Not within the scrutiny of a scholar’s essay,
Not within the thoughts that the artist...
If you point your eyes directly at a star,
expecting to see a brilliant sparkle in the black,
you will be inexorably disappointed.
Most...
The death of waiting,
a vice grip on my chest denies me the option to breathe,
my wrists bound in cuffs of limitation,
feet stuck in...