Cloudburst

Bloodrush


Sweatdrops


Goosebumps...

Between

Between what was said and what remained


Love died a commoner's death, an everyday affair...

My kind of fairytale

I could paint the skies crimson.
Ochre. Burnt brown. Shades of violet.

Would it be any different?



I would write my skies different.
Winged men. Glass castles. Timeless love stories.
Call it a fairytale.



Actuality is expensive; fairytales affordable...

A sultry afternoon affair

A sultry afternoon.

Scarred notions. Broken pastels. Inexpensive whiskey.

An unfinished Frida Kahlo.


Reminiscences and reflections...

Mixed Media

How you wish you were different...


How you wish you weren't just one more
Lost in the hundred same stories with different faces wishing they were different


How you wish all of the storm that wrecks you apart every night could be splashed on the canvas

How you wish your stories could be different...

Be the poetry...

Be my poetry...

The poetry I could kiss goodmornings.
The poetry I could wake up next to, in the middle of a nightmare.
The poetry I could walk, into the sunset.
The poetry I could sculpt one more time, everyday...

About You

I'm not sure anymore, what intrigues me more.


What you speak in the silences?
Or, what you pen in the differences?