lacus-crystalthornWhisper

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Into sea mists and sunsetsWe're literally verging on death and no one even bothered to properly orient us on what it would be like. / There's the West Valley Fault, ready to strike a fatal blow that will make buildings crumble and set an entire city afire. There is always the Tokhang, a ruthless method that could practically annihilate and gun down anyone through gossips and word of mouth. There's the brewing tension between the North Korea and the US, the possibility of nuclear war and bioterrorism breathing at the back of our necks. / Earlier today, a friend of mine witnessed an accident. A death, I hazard. Broken bones and crumpled body. A loud explosion, a worker coming face to face with electrocution. He fell from the roof of the footbridge, she said, near Session road. Mortality is easing up on us, she said.
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Apr 18, 2017
In an unloved hinterlandLately, all I want to do is stare at the ceiling and let my consciousness descend in the cellar of perpetual dreaming. / It happens, I guess. Friends vacate their spaces and walk quietly out of your life. Without warning, and sometimes, when we need them most. / All those times you've spent together, those nights you've skipped sleep just so you could drag them out of their loneliness before sunrise, all those they've buried in the farthest corner of their memories, to be left forgotten and cold like ordinary days.
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Apr 15, 2017
MarshlandMy internal landscape was once a wetland. Grasses and herbaceous plants sprout from the ventricles of my heart. My rib is a birch tree, a deciduous hard wood crowned with thin leaves. My veins are wild ravines. Inside it is the torrent of rain water that keeps me alive. / My heart is a beating water lily, eternally blooming on the lake of my blood. I was a sullen mist, and I loved it that way. / But they mistook my solitude for loneliness, the crowd, the clever engineers. So they loaded sands on their trucks, sacks after sacks. They opened me up, covered my wetland, and built a city inside me. They paved roads. They constructed buildings. They opened cafes and pubs and restaurants. They turned on their neon lights.
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Feb 18, 2017
MontageI now see my / succeeding days and / weeks and months and
9
Dec 20, 2016
The TV contains budding romancesThe TV contains budding romances / and break ups / and new lovers and mistresses of
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Nov 3, 2016
No demons, no godsCould ever dictate / the course of our days / and nights
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Oct 17, 2016
A NeedAll I desire tonight is / to lay down and / read some raw poetry.
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Sep 23, 2016
Near the train railsThere were nights / when you would left me / for sleep
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Sep 21, 2016
In an old house in an old room.When I die, / I want to be clothed in black / and look stunning.
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Sep 19, 2016
You are not made up of good days alone.You are far more complicated / and immense / and incalculable
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Aug 5, 2016
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