young poets
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The echo of Red.
I bleed against the steady wood, Howling of my pain, A suffering spent in vain. Zeus laughs, His lofty scorn, A formation ; For the words he is yet to say. I was right to call you weak, He snorts,… Continue reading
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Heart /House
I think I’ll pack my feelings, In that brown briefcase, And leave this heart behind, Because it has leakage, And the marks on the wall, Look like you, They are red, And make me want to claw my eyes out,… Continue reading
J's Musings 