confessions from the soul of a martyr

I have Joan of Arc’s soul, selfless, a martyr, spirit spilling with ambition for a siege of the selfless. my mother, perhaps, breathed in her ashes when she had me; her embers embedded underneath my eyelids, and I began to see all the treacheries that she fought against: I was certain it was my duty to avenge her.

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the euphoria of him and I

“Lavender nights are our greatest treasure where we can be just who we want to be Round us all up, send us away that’s what you’d really like to do But we’re too strong, proud, unafraid in fact we almost pity you You act from fear, why should that be What is it that you... Continue Reading →

The Forgotten and the Lost

“In our endeavors to recall to memory something long forgotten, we often find ourselves upon the very verge of remembrance, without being able, in the end, to remember.” ~Edgar Allan Poe It was as if he wasn’t really there. Completely blurred against the gray tracks and rapid rain. Like a ghost of someone who jumped in front... Continue Reading →

Enigma 

  This poem was inspired by Allen Ginsgerg's, "Howl". ~~~ i have lost so many versions of myself to unadulterated; unorthodox, fully vulnerable addictive love that is growing like a cyst in my heart completely rooted in my vena cava hours of study locked in my closet as metaphorical and literal as you can get... Continue Reading →

The Sunflower Boy

I’ve only cried for a boy once And maybe that's a lie For I've cried for many boys But this boy didn't need me to cry for him Because his tear jar was all filled up So we started another And it was labeled in a blue sharpie pen, “Makeup” But instead of tears we... Continue Reading →

A Conditional Romance

Her breathing kept me awake. A methodical lullaby that wouldn't summon me to sleep. As she clung onto my arm and nuzzled into my chest, inhaling me, I laid motionless; daydreaming along the ceiling. Recollections of university life and buying our house riddled my mind. Every time, I go through these memories I get more... Continue Reading →

The Rhythm of My Heart

I was seven years old when my ma took me to the theater. I’ve never been there before but whenever I had a real bad toothache, my ma would drive us to the doctor’s office, and I would gaze up at the oval shaped building with roguish stone pillars and cobblestone stairs. It was my... Continue Reading →

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