Forever in search of being entranced
by the way a person observes
the universe with closed eyes.
I throw away depths unseen
by lovers found before
an understanding of the self
became ingrained within the soul.
An unreliable narrator
has not the right to judge,
yet still I see myself
disrupting a sense of love
while I go look for more.



I color myself with disillusionment
with each inking of my skin
–desperately searching for my soul,
bleeding between bold lines.
As I draw nearer to the surface
I swiftly break to pieces;
fitting forcefully together,
a chaotic organism,
unfit for being whole.
I walk closer to the brink
to look over the abyss
–the soul I’ve been escaping
whenever my mind shifts.