Enter my brain: I talk about writing and everything in between.

A shimmering light

Yesterday was one of the worst of my life,

To say the least.

How does the soul die, and it hasn’t died yet?


The world is proving to be more hostile than I imagined.

The innocent is not innocent anymore.

The child in me, dead?

Who am I to say?

And I’m in a place safe.

Who am I kidding,

When I say I know how to live or how to die.

I am running out of things to say.

I am running out of veins.


I’m running out of everything.

The words don’t serve me.

And the pen.

Who’s to care?

I'm afraid yesterday was full of regrets; tomorrow?

like a dark tunnel with a shimmering light,

Is there light?

Is there a way out?