the last days might be approaching
they haunt me all the time
how deep do the roots go?
do I even dare to take a look?

an uprooted tree, about to be transported
roots desperately cling onto the dirt
intertwined within, a memento of where it came from
waving its home goodbye

a flower stuck inside of a pot
given small cups of water every day
neglected until placed by the window
and dared to survive on its own

photosynthesis blurs with photography
acutely trying to burn its surroundings into its mind
the dark clouds are looming on the horizon
don’t sever the ties to who you are


glacio sub mia haŭto

snow is looming in the distance
little crystals not formed yet
a dream, a faint memory, a dread
in stone cold hearts

little crystals adorn my skin
of glass, water, and minerals
picked up and transported far from home
ripped away from the flesh of the earth

no, I’m not religious
my ghost has never departed form my body
no matter how long I wait in this bed
the vibrations never make an appearance

the memory of snow freezes my fingers
how will I ever write now?
my English teacher will be quite upset at this
but the blizzard canceled school today

writing session number seven

I sit alone in my basement
a candle flickers beside my monitor on the desk
working late into the night, pressing up against a deadline
like a barbed fence pricking into my skin

there is clay in my hands
dancing off of my fingers
a head, a hand, a foot, a leg
slowly come into view

maybe this person can stand on their own
the thousand word hill looms in the distance
or maybe they need some new words
an iron skeleton, a few gems for eyes

they’ll have to withstand a barrage of criticism someday
but for now, they are formless, raw, unedited
sitting on the shelf as I go to sleep
working in my sleepwalking

mi forgesis kiam mi skribis tiun

misshapen eyebrows
and legs shaved to the point of gleaming
like an android’s artificial legs
striped with shades of blue
and devoid of meaning

your head is empty
and so are your insides
would you like a soul?
they’re on sale for half off

one more finger to your chest
and you might explode
weakened, integrity done down
one more blow to your psyche, however
and my glass heart will shatter

and you wouldn’t want to pick the pieces off of the floor
corrosive as hell
rust in your joints

no. fifteen

“would you miss me if I moved away?”
she’s crying in the middle of the night
over ghosts and zombies shambling around the country
the past still reigns here

“do you miss me at all?”
they say that a red string connects
two people who were made to be
but a few scraps of string adorn my fingers

“are you done laughing?”
my chest hurts from exertion
you wish that it was my heart
stone cold like the air yesterday afternoon

rain drizzles onto my umbrella
maybe this will be the last time
but that’s what I said last time
and the time after that


eleven children sit on the footsteps of a home
waiting for half of their parents to come home
do they even have parents?
or are they just ghosts in thin air?

the sun wants to sit on its throne of ebony
waiting for the new day to arise
but the moon is full and refuses to come out
it’s got stage fright, the poor thing

hope is loved and lost on a highway
it starts with a name laced with poison
and ends in three dots
upset at a hypothetical pointed out

if you didn’t want to be laughed at
you shouldn’t have been so absurd
laughing helps lose weight
we both could stand to shed a few pounds

junaj plenkreskuloj

there’s something going on in the distance
can you see it with your wide blue eyes?
maybe that’s a revolution about to happen
maybe that’s just a ruse

but you always had a superiority complex
want to save the world, don’t you?
find problems in the system
and exacerbate them until chaos explodes

we’ll try to warn you at the final battle
you’re not a superhero; you’re just a child!
what are you doing, risking your life
when you’ve lived life in wither luxury or peasantry

if you’re going to be reckless
at least bring along a companion
two in the grave is always better than one
because then you get to write a double funeral

rest in peace to the other poor characters
no hero’s funeral for them