messy drabbles

Odious sentiments fill empty souls;

Who ever thought Shakespearean tragedies

Could ever turn into flower prose?


Drabble, once again

Once again, I am submerging myself in oceans I have long left and separated myself from months ago

It is not something I can fight against

I may have a buoy but that buoy is not strong enough

That same buoy pushes me against the tides whenever big tidal waves arrive

So when?

When will I learn the limits of “I can”

Messy Drabble #1

In the flesh, where the least

Can only be the ones which

Could be uncovered, oh, defeat,

Stares a mirror image,

Smiling lopsided, imitating

The persona outside the

Chambers kept inside the confines

Kept in the heart, soldered;

Normal, it seems but

Alas, the facade will never

Never, be conceived

Truly nor fully, oh the pain,

Forever scratching

Against the residue produced

By even the smallest

Of the smallest shoves

And pushes anew