Living in a solar eclipse.

Each person existstrying to find their worth within itour opinions escalateas we stake claim of knowledge to determine their fateover shared and often over blownall we know is what has been shownthe history of humanitydetermined by the writer rather than certain clarityfacts often shreddedby the ones most creditedit’s as if were all living in aContinue reading “Living in a solar eclipse.”

His entirety of self dissolved within despair.

His entirety of self dissolved within despairlike a beluga whale coming up for airhis head surfaced to fightthrough the twisted waters of his plightready to accept doubtwithering within thoughthis humanity had been lostduring the last frostfreezing coldshivering as he stood boldas the ice brokeallowing the others to croakthe lone survivorliving had been the lureand afterContinue reading “His entirety of self dissolved within despair.”

Within an ordinary swamp.

The inhabitants of this Earthtend to wallow within an ordinary swampand when they rise their grime is simply the samethey titter within the shameas if a yearning for good healthrather than wealthis a pitiful claim. I try to thinkI try to createI try to continueI choose to take a chance and failrather than wallowwithin theContinue reading “Within an ordinary swamp.”

So many thoughts erupt.

So many thoughts eruptfull bloom crooked and corruptthe tree screams to rid itself of wicked deedseach one re-seedsas the sun settles behind it’s protective shieldradiating its heat upon the tree branches peeledthe sun narratesno resolve as the tree grows iratefeeling used and upcycleddwelling within their predators arrival. Thanks for reading.-Temperamentally Tina

A crooked pen binds like minds.

A crooked pen binds like mindsall the words join paraphrasedAs if anyone could be pursued. A heart fed ontwisted and gnawed uponpounding within the rageas if each heart deserves it’s own stage. There is rightthere is wrongyet most fact is dissolved within opinionand stapled upon the bulletin. There is no puritythe world isn’t built uponContinue reading “A crooked pen binds like minds.”

Adrift amongst the specks.

Adrift amongst the specksdisburse the crowd upon requestsan informal greeting initiatedas the commander stays elevatedthe face forces a friendly gesturea smile stitched as each frustration must festera blister that takes on an identity of it’s ownthe commander hasn’t always been shown Hitwo letters wrapped in a liethe face would rather shelter aloneforced to make niceContinue reading “Adrift amongst the specks.”

As one sheds their bond.

Indebted to the groundbedded within the Earth with a shrill soundas one sheds their bondas if they’re the most profoundwithin the ground another will meltevery feeling ever feltone faces forwardas their reality slips towardall the conflicted thoughts of the collectiveanticipating each perspectiveand another nodsentangling their worth within sod. The above poem was written in reactionContinue reading “As one sheds their bond.”

A wish filled, several more sprouts from what we build.

A wish filledseveral more sprouts from what we builda lump in the terraineach person lives to take claimyet no admittanceto the rather large size of their footprintasking of moreyet we all fawn and adorethe largest of allthe biggest of the resource smugglers gathered in a hallmaking donationsas their bellies burst from the foundationif only eachContinue reading “A wish filled, several more sprouts from what we build.”

Judgements can be torture.

After the blade had been takenthe creature is left shakenalone within a puddle of bloodwith the reflection of what once stoodeach thought allowed to breathewithin a world to over seethose that pass by scald the creaturejudgements can be torture. I wrote the above poem in response to the image. I viewed the image as aContinue reading “Judgements can be torture.”

Writing is what I rather.

I don’t feel compelled to gatherwriting is what I ratherwords I can vanquish rescript whatever I wish turn a hero into a villain unravel each civilian give a heartto an unknown partwith a pen I can fabricate a friend dig a gravewhen they misbehave within the words I gain a sense of controlout here eachContinue reading “Writing is what I rather.”