boyhood, withering beneath a wild sky (#37 in poetry 12/11/17) © vangohs, 2017

drop by my house at half past noon; we'll make small talk of murder over chamomile tea © VANGOHS, 2017

drown in ichor.

you've left me; constellations left unstrung within my veins. highest ranking; #2 in poetry november 2018

FEAUTURED BY @StoriesUndiscovered, October 2022 Dreams flow like a river in my mind. They are being torn appart by the claws of the devil. She is the devil. It is a late evening and venom is dripping from her bitter lips along sweet words whispered in my ear. I beg for mercy and love, but she cannot give it to me. Poison filled her glass heart and I waited for it to burst under the pressure of her pain. She likes to check mate me in the corner of the kitchen... She introduces me to the world of jokers... She likes to play hangman with my feelings... S? - No, I am not surprised. A? - No, I am not angry. D? - No I am not dissapointed... I am in love. --- In the world where love exists, when you are in love, you don't care if the abused becomes the abused. You don't care about the perfect, nice boy next door who greets you every morning. You care about your lover, the star reflecting in your glistening eyes. You care about their needs and selfish desires. You care about your Olivia. WARNING! TRIGGERING CONTENT, PLEASE READ CAREFULLY.

show me where it hurts © 070518 , enamoramos

identity theft

i'm the lustrous beam that peers through your window. february 2019

my disposition on your skin © 072818 , enamoramos

shes still trying to regain her rotted submissive affections