Don’t trust your feelings. They pass just like a sunshower; the bleak blisses will foreshow the meaning of the feeling.


Dear cold spring night.

How today feels like every other day

I am trying to break free of this mental prison instilled in the core of my soul.

I ask you to heal what is missing from this artistic cluster to grow from the cement grounds.

So that I can smell the aroma of her fragrance one last time, in searching of finding the missing element of this tragedy we call life.