Poems from there's ink in my veins
The wind picks up and the horizon turns burgundy red
The people of this city scurry to their expensive cars
Racing to get home to see the...
The lines of red she's carvedWrap in squiggled ropes around her wristsThe red bands of beading blood Snap to the surface of her porcelain...
We are simply fireworks waiting to explode
Guns ready to fire, the powder gone astray,
We are simple human beings we say,
Our lives have...
The space between my ribs
Right down the center
Sternum, I believe.
That’s where he lives
It’s where he hides...
The wind picks up and the horizon turns burgundy red
The people of this city scurry to their expensive cars
Racing to get home to see the...