Blueprint of the mind of a psychopath

This is not living. This is not sane. The walls are caving in as this satanic satire plays a symphony. My Brain tries to compute, like a typewriter racing against a macbook. Outdated… Unappreciated… Old fashioned, without a spirit to imbibe. This is not living. This is not sane. The walls are caving in and…

Flowers becoming extinct

I want the world to know I’m watching; Down below the people scurry like ants, sweet suttle movements. Marching in sycronization as their beloved, fat succulent Queen awaits the next meal. Honey. Sweet honey drips fall down like a waterstream from Niagra falls..Earthquake!!! Abundant casualties: lives loss, the true essence of the bee’s knees. Hello…

Bonds made in a form of a circle

I’ve found this love… And I’m not letting go. It’s what I live for in the mornings, as I sip on coffee or tea. The newspaper unfolds and my day has begun. The children are sleep and my love is wrapped inside her blanket. Her warmth, her skin, her grace and heart. From the beginning…