#surrealimagery
Fire, wind, water, earth—
perhaps I’ll be
the element of surprise.
No scent of intentions;
I broke my nose, sent into
a world that watches with
wide eyes.
Premature ideas delivered
to a man’s dream;
the stillborn
still cries; echoing even
after not seeing the light.
Often my heart feels low, unruly—
recognizing no boundary,
******* the sacrifice required
To be a man.
Sometimes I am a stone,
skipping past life · · · · · ·
_1, 2, 3, 4, 5..._
But never six—
for by that count,
I begin to sink.
Life and its lessons still needs
to polish me, to reach my reach.
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 7:17 PM UTC
I wake up tasting rust,
and call it breakfast.
The sun looks guilty,
but I still blame the rain.
I hate the chairs,
the way they wait for me.
I hate the air,
how it touches without asking.
And I hate that I hate
like a dog chewing on its own tail,
thinking it's a bone,
thinking it's a gift.
Feb 19
Feb 19, 2026 at 11:33 AM UTC