The tortured poets tend to do that right? Scribble and scribble and scribble a little more, To get the art out of their heartbreak, One...

I write I'm a cloud, I mean I hold on too much, I'm a floating paradox, I'm always flying away, Always trying to escape, I'm in between...

It's fading away quickly, I'm trying to remember every little detail possible before it's completely gone from the tracts of my...

The heat that engulfs the surface on this part of the Earth these days, Leave life still, With no breeze, No air circulating through, Not...

My face is heated up, And I don't think it has anything to do with the nearly 40°c all day with barely any breeze to survive the humid...

I keep seeing progresses of everyone else, And I keep finding myself not doing anything to change the situation I'm in, But then I...

Summer, really, truly, arrived today, all those years ago, when we were kids in school. Dressing up in new clothes, packing two whole...

That in-between feeling, Between arrivals and departures, Between going and reaching, Between good news and bad news, Between...

Aren't prompts supposed to make poetry easier to write? Then why is it so difficult for me to pick one and make my brain think of some...

I belong with the light, Bouncing off from surfaces, Not-stopping even in darkness, Finding little spaces, Sneaking in the crevices, To...

Today is yet another day, When I'm screaming internally, Because I cannot believe, How I keep destroying my own garden, By digging my own...

...another thing about whatever was between us, it felt like his heart knew mine from a lifetime ago, despites screens and situations...