Category Archives: Poetry.


Overwhelming desire to escape
Stuck in place
Sadness and fear, paralyzing

I hate this feeling
I want to break through the glass ceiling
But something is holding me back

My inner tragedy, glorious
And beautiful I think
At its core it is my captor and rescuer

Circles are fearful
Never ending and repetitive
Drudging depression

Alienation and isolation
I am a foreigner in an unwelcoming land
But the cruelest thing
Is that for a second, it is inviting. Deceptive.


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An eternal trap.

I sit on the floor, look at the clock.

A quarter to one, or two, my eyes are blurry.

Swimming in a pool of blood, I look around.

Seven windows, seven stages.

I cry, blood. I cry blood.

My throat hurts, I scream but hear no sound.

The silence is deafening.

I am trapped in this dark cave, all that holds me is this abyss of silence.

My skull engorges , pressing my brains, stamping out every living cell.

I close my eyes, think for a moment.

Seven stages, seven prisons.


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This shalt only last a few,

What is unknown, shall evince.

Verily it hurts, oh it so does,

I search and search, hidden by this mask.

For a new land, where I can be uncloaked,

My thoughts and actions reconsidered, then paraded.

I need what I want not,

But I want what I need not.

Burning hath never felt this good,

For I know, a prize lays at the end.

Succumb, absolve, submit.

My true colour is known not,

For this is but a Masquerade.

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Washing out an impression.

As the waves pound the beach,

I am reminded, of how easily my footprints vanish.

Erasure of an idea, has never been this harrowing.

All I shall remember, is the vague image, of a distant feeling.

A drawing on the beach, now taken into the hands,

Of the endless expanse of water.

The comings and goings of the tide,

Is what I dwell on, to be a constant reminder,

Of the complexity of life, of how an idea once was but now, never is.

I draw and draw, hoping that this time, it shall remain,

Disappointment proves otherwise, until I realize,

The warmth of the water on my feet,

The gentle repertoire of salty waves,

The sweetest joys of this  day,

Are what I have been missing all along, trying to make an impression,

Of what will never be.

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