“Expose yourself to your deepest fear after that, fear has no power, and the fear of freedom shrinks and vanishes. You are free.”
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Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as ravens claws.
Listen, real poetry doesn't say anything it just ticks off the possibilities. Opens all doors. You can walk through anyone that suits you.
If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it's to deliver people from the limited ways in which they see and feel.
Sex is full of lies. The body tries to tell the truth. But, it's usually too battered with rules to be heard, and bound with pretenses so it can hardly move. We cripple ourselves with lies.
