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I have never truly lived, all through my childhood, my mind and my lips were two distant shadows telling on each other’s void, learning each other how to calmly breathe…
The pen came and gift voices to my silences, so these deliciously spilling yet painful words can help scatter and rearrange my thoughts and I, to help me crawl out of my own darkness and live the life of a full moon, to allow myself the chance to witness another sunrise where I root for the longevity, truth and healing of this boy’s body, spirit, mind and laughter…
This: writing became my home and playground, here I plant me, every seed and element of self along with discoveries, blooms, oozes, fruitful transitioning and becomings…
I am twenty-three years young, and I’ve lived many lives, it has taken me a lifetime, to finally say I am here now: ready to live, love, dance, give, laugh, write, and paint my rainbow thus making my humble presence felt and received…
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How to kill a thing that lives
Tell it you love it Then neglect it to be alone and rot With the stench of your absence Throw a blanket on its green  Starve it from its air Question its genuinity Curse it for being kind, shiny Drain the moist out of its roots Smack an axe into its stomach And accuse it of not being enough Enough for you and your stingy ego  Hide your tissues So when it cries it flows like a river Until it’s high enough to drown itself Sit by the [...]
