Poems from The Ill-Made Muse
I miss you like I’ve stopped breathing
When pains in my chest feels like bursting,
Only to inhale a lack of something
As precious as oxygen...
Woah to me, the weary traveller,
Lost at sea inside my head,
Drinking down the endless brew
Of all the brine and things you said.
I am a...
Contemplative be,
The constant wandering soul,
No home but vagrant shores,
Morally he walks the path complacency abhors.
Old age showed up one day
Smiling,
the curves of her lips held softer edges,
Her hands were delicately lined,
An ancient wire system,
Still...
The big bad something
Decides it’s time to talk,
Pounding,
Behind eyes,
Spherical,
The bullets shoot you,
And the hiding isn’t easy.
The...