Can’t

I cannot write about you Not because I can’t but because I cannot the thought of it the thought of it stops as soon as it starts almost as if my body wanted you gone which you are  but you are not the smell lingers however imagined and the sound that sound the sound of…

Like Open Fire

Feeling warm on a cold day is a skill They say suffering is a choice But my suffering is an open battle The bleeding. The dying. And the yelling won’t cease When you’re told you’re like an atomic bomb Detonated, and everything’s gone When you feel like a stampede Like a forest fire Like open…