Blog loving music poetry WRITING

see red ?


a few times a year certain sounds and sensations remind me of war and when i’m found huddled under a table or in a corner, i laugh and pretend i’m playing hide and seek with the cats, who are sleeping peacefully in their beds. when you’re vulnerable enough to be naked but pained enough to fight, you end up wearing clothes in hopes that you’re not the punching bag.

rape is a bitch
their breasts and testicles
are challenging to define
outside of flesh’s blistering

whose acts of horror
refuse erase

ptsd rage can become art if you allow but if you don’t, rage in all its purity is art enough.

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