Staircase to Earth

Hell. All this time, he spoke to me in varied hues of oranges and reds. He whispered in flames that burned my head, he moved about in a curfew that swept my need for fresh air. I am a tree, with a broken heart carved on my stomach. The knots of insomnia tighten around my

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The Prayer

There are mosquito bites all over my feet The itch grows like climbers around my knees My veins circle the heart My hands run out of control I’m spinning in this web of my creation I’m a collector like spiders Except that I don’t devour upon my hosts I watch them grow out of their