This is a poem I wrote this week and I thought I would add this as my first piece on here as it fits my usual style of writing.
sometimes everything is a pulsing moment, filling the night, not yet woken into blinding sight, not yet giving way to darkness. as opposites fall into repulsion. what can I do, as the world shrinks; devouring the earth outside our closed doors. how can it be so slowly simple? our living death a masterpiece in four dimensions. even the title is not our own, desire unfulfilled
I don't really like being judged by my age, so obviously I am young. I really spell either so thank god for computers. I am a black-belt but am too sick to continue training so i take comfort in my wr.. more..