I was 15 when I first buried her. Along with a relative whom I barely know. While people were moaning for the deceased, I was burning in pain. Severing a part of me. So in the coven I may place a perversed concoction of feelings. 15 years of incompleteness Has passed before another funeral caught… Continue reading Missa Viventium
I’ve been picking up pieces I left in places and people I try to stick them together to replace what’s been forsaken in a foreign country But the pieces are sharp with odd Edges that do not fit Together “The unbridgeable chasm between concept as a set of conceptual moments and concept as an experience… Continue reading Picking pieces
Walking down the road, a train rushed by me, and I did not notice someone was screaming about sex in my ears. It blocked me out from the world I tried not to notice you walking behind me with him Talking silently with your hands. So I turned and walked into the public toilet To… Continue reading Tokyo-to, Meguro-ku, 4-5-29 Komaba
Forgive me for doing this – The apology is but formality, just like your empty promises no one ever sees me under you and I am left with your bad name just as my hand is left with the smell of your cock We were never together by choice, it’s more like fate minus romance… Continue reading Good bye
is writing Not a poet But a reader A soulless reader, you can say, finding something to fill his soul Perhaps with words, with knowledge, sex, food, stories or perhaps with another's soul and heart Who's writing? an alcoholic, a scholar, a man, a pen, an emotion, an experience, me and you.