I'll cut off my own hands
For everything I touch shatters

I breathe my soul out
like a wordsmith tinged with art
in poetry as a medicine,
deep thoughts lay behind each line
deep emotions are felt by each stanza

nobody prescribed me such
my soul just knew where and what it wanted
because poetry is medicine.

IA

sometimes when reality
makes you sad,
the good memories of your past
is enough to make you happy.

IA

"Maybe we are all one degree
and one strange encounter away from healing.
Maybe it isn’t something we don’t have to do alone,
just maybe all it takes is one person
to teach us the pain we feel right now
and everything we’ve been holding on to for this long
is what we can let go of."

a gloriously beautiful man and angel
cast down to heavens
for his pride and rebellious streak,
sympathizing the tempting evil, Satan.

then is a fallen angel commiserating
the iniquity of a sinner who needed it most,
whose name and itself is a scapegoat,
to him ascribe all sin and darkness,
the corruption of humanity,
as he himself is chained
to the rough and jagged rocks,
awaiting the vicious torment,
just like a scapegoat sinner in dire need
of common humanity's prayer.

IA