She told me
that the air tastes of
nothing
but
nostalgia and arsenic

Putrid smells of dirtied innocence,
A veil of eager stupidity,
Misfortune converts to violence,
Roots caged by the ashes
Of what once was,
My hometown of resilience- staled,
Replaced with glory seekers
Spewing words void of value,
Pickets of dishonesty,
Weekends of gloom,
Shame.
I feel foolish as I reside here,
Bleeding within the garden of thorns,
Punctured by the claw of the bird.

Come to take you around in Montana, my friend!
From the waters of Ogosta dam
to the waves of the fountain
and the fabulous nights in Monteto.
Nowhere on earth or the Balkans you will find a city like that,
even at sea for it's the quietest and most pleasant city in Bulgaria.

A city with an ancient history,
dating back to before the coming of Christ,
telling of the intransigence of the people
and their hunger for knowledge.
A city with good people who deserve respect and esteem,
people who believe in a better future and
the progress of their young spirit.

They pass this faith and knowledge on to future generations
about the energy and loyalty to our city.
From the dazzling and beautiful Chiprovtsi carpets
to the countless and charming summers and winters.
Welcome!

Once a little swain, Time has passed.
Chaos and Order, like petal drifting lake;
An Emperor of the east.
A thought to move millions,
A finger to predestine the people.
At the end, The peak resemble my hometown,
People have move, merchant comes and goes;
A place carved from ancient painting.
Serving the people is my duty,
Earth Beneath, Heaven encompassing;
Jaded life is now willow in winter.

On the west cheek of a town's unpainted face,
a mole in the shape of an abandoned tower block
stands and surveys all the veins and dead skin
at its base, there's a cycle path system that never tires,
heels stuck in white, blue and gold Converse shoe
marched through, then flew down those tarmac miles,
every number on the clock face must have held a hand
for the times when I ran full pelt, after nights out,
to save cash, but also to stay alive, as the magic
would ***** out once my key found the jagged
and hollow black hole it was designed to enter,
so I danced with horses, sleepwalking all morning.

I didn’t think I could find a love so whole...
a partner I feel like I’ve known from long ago,
a swell and burst whenever they are near,
a flutter of butterflies where my heart is supposed to be.

In the past, I had been hastily dealt the illusion
and lived a lovesick life stuck in a delusion.
But now I think I finally found the “one”
in a boy from the town I tend to call home.

husks of air pass
the shelled yellow left in fields
lake water like a bath that once
washed worries away.

this dry that takes my throat,
I ask it to tickle my cheek,
caress my soul,
embody the years passing me by.

Be my keeper of gone days;
I will carry you in whims yet-to-be.

At times, the road is murky,
colorless as ancient paintings.
Road is far, a character dotting alone,
not the first nor last.
Perhaps... My hometown is still there,
waiting for my return after this walk in life.
Too far... Too far...

driven away.
a culmination of screeching car wheels,
like singing banshees, like sirens, like witches,
who cast spells on father dearest,
until her skin turned green,
and she turned into all that she feared.

house of fragmentation.
ageing wallpaper made ever more brittle by her nails,
scratching, scraping, wishing it was his skin.
maybe then she’d be able to reach in,
throw his organs at the walls, stamping on them,
bleeding some life into their deflated lung,
failing under her smoke.
hellfire, always in the wake
of a woman scorned.

madness.
it makes foundations frail,
unable to be built up once more.
broken, not quite.
fractured beyond repair?
i think the doctor would agree.

now you wonder why,
i speed past road signs without looking back.
now you have the audacity to enquire,
why i cannot play the madonna,
why i chose to run from, escape from,
avoid the question when someone asks about

home.
four letters which belong in pandora’s box,
accompanied by me begging (on my knees, etc)
for you to never ask me to let the contents out.