I’ve been in this place so long. All this rent, in the form of time spent. Friendzone woes. Suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, ever since my last flame burned me into postmortem. All these feelings I harbor for relationships. So heavy I hope it doesn’t sink this ship.
A quick announcement regarding the first volume of my third book.
Is it love? Or is it real? Enchanted, ephemeral experience. Taking root in the cracks of the cardiac. It comforts and attacks. It extends and contracts.
Two years ago, I was finishing up my last semester of college. Sleepless nights and online assignments defined the summer. It was all building up to August 6, the day of graduation. I walk across the stage with a diploma cover in hand and victory in mind. It was finished! No more tests, essays, and … Continue reading The Art of Failure as a Millennial
My melanin has hell in it, I heard them say. My music is pure foolishness; they always pay.
Another self analysis of my love life.
An apparition from a past affair.A fantasy of phantoms driving me to the underworld of undeserved worth and understated love sonnets.