releasing & growing

poetry allows me to purge and process. its how I breathe.

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Casket prettyHollow trunk of treeSacred room now just a museum for passers byI still can smell you though,Takes me back to a time when breath still lapped tongueBed placed and dressed as if you never left Garlic press taking inches of my hearts I recite your questions to myself, as if I was a hafiz […]