Free verse · Poetry


My name was
What it was? And what is it now?
Was it a hint of glory or a quest?
Was it for me to take it as a curse.

lost paintings & a year of nothing
doesn’t that picture terrify you?
I’m bloody scared
what was it for?
the ways of torture can be less dreadful
yet still effective
poisoned by the truth or the greatest fear?
it brings up the urge to bleed and vomit
if a fish could drawn, it would be me

I hate the smell of flowers
they remind one of the tragedy that the life is
does anyone bring you flowers once you’re born?
not until you’re dead (or you get older, everyone celebrates your death)
I’m so sick, really, I might as well throw up


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s