scorp

The toxicity of a city, with its polluted claws digging at your dreams.

Chapter One of a story of a fighter in a city

outside a home, darkness swallowed the world whole.

I celebrate my tests instead of my smiles

The sky was more often red than it was not ~ a short excerpt of a project

a poem about art block

a nostalgic poem?

she's rich...................

what chagrin, how bittersweet. i wish you were jealous of me.

draft of visiting family members

we have the capacity to fathom.

sorry.......................