saturn rises from the valley of my neck and sets in the folds of my hell-drunken veins [ #1 in poetry, 1.25.19 ]

I CRIED OUT FOR HELP BUT NOT EVEN I COULD HEAR ANY TRUTH IN IT collection of poetry © clamydia | 2018

pyrrhic victories © 2019 fighues

because that which makes us human is that which we think makes us less human

an exploration of the heart. december 2018

a philosophical midnight pilgrimage through elusive facets of feeling & healing