The Cycle Of Broken Jars


Cloaked and hidden:
i see all and understand
An oracle of souls,
Perspective is investment:
a never ending cycle of give and take

My heart bleeds on a page,
and as all the emotions are carved into my soul-
Each scar and bruise,
Reminds me of the nothingness of pain:
a small black hole sucking away at the youth of my physical cage

Set him free:
Let him feel the motion of the air against his wings
Untouched and unguarded
Then watch him fall:
Let him get shot from his paradise of nothingness
Broken and bruised
Give him life:
Let him fall in love with the beauty of your eyes
Revived and rejuvenated
Set him free…


Plastic Limitations

Poetry, Silent Observations

Dolls lined up in neat rows of ten,
each equally afraid of lies, pain and disappointment
Drawn with aching smiles and soulless eyes:
cages are imprinted with redundant words to spark interest

A new era of egocentrically selfless dolls pollute the aisle
while the rest are left to decay into the dust they rose from
And as damaged beauty is glorified,
hearts are lost to the physical eye:

Money, magnified, manic
Absent, apathetic, abandoned
Grated, generic, glorified
Empty, effortless, edited
the end of each relationship is the beginning of every insecurity…