It's so cold. A cold that creeps into your marrow, Like a million metal maggots Wiggling their way up your veins. Not the absense of heat - But a presence that no longer Embraces me with criticisms, Or give me a sobering slap...


On the rushing trains of Tokyo

I was taking a walk And saw a couple at the park the other day. From the back, the man was holding her the woman had her hands on his. They were staring At the only tree with sakura left faintly blooming. (Clutches) That never worked for us. (Chuckles) They will not make it (Chokes)… Continue reading On the rushing trains of Tokyo