Poems from CH
I'm floating in the sky mounted on a pegasus
SNAP
I'm kissing the people that I belong with
SNAP
I'm living in the perfect world that...
It is past midnight,
rain pitters and patters rhythmically outside,
a body tiredly rests itself on the bed,
the blanket lays soft and cozy...
Poetry is my blood,
and tears,
and my everything,
stained inky black and swirled on paper.
Poetry isn’t simply a way to say things...
This is a sick world,
a sick world I can't give up on,
but a sick world nevertheless,
where the blood of the happy ones,
runs dry to...
Focus,
And keep it,
Because,
I won’t be here,
To guide you,
The next time.