Poems from kmszolyga
She arrives, only when I’m close to my grave. Sitting on the lip of a coffin, where dark souls will soon yearn for my newly rotten skin....
I can feel my mother’s warmth, holding me close from the other side of the wall. Her nails reach for me, as she scratches on the bathroom...
Being a father, being a husband, from the other side of the world; though I feel like I am in another world. The moon reminds me she is...