A Ballad of suicide letters “When the soul suffers too much, it develops a taste for misfortune.”  ― Albert Camus, The First Man  I had twenty in my pocket, ten in my veins, and one in my heart. Happiness was another taste. I was an absurdist at heart. I knew nothing made sense. Nothing amounted … Continue reading Bereft


You rest your fingertip on the first button. Rest it on its lips tearing it open with a violence with a force not yet known to you the second one wilts in fear but your fingers scream unrelenting the countdown begins by the time you reach the last life has taken another meaning a car … Continue reading Buttons

all the way 

all with my eyes I lost all the way whispered the roads even my bones knelt  beside me this landscape  marred with a scale weighs in  on itself this sky  held down by its lies  carries the earth  in whispers and lies who knew    the price of dreaming  was losing my hold on reality … Continue reading all the way