The Shock

It’s not about the years of survival
It’s not about whether I’m determined
It’s the sharpness of air
Rushing into my lungs
It’s the beams of sun
Harassing my skin so dampened
It’s the shock of vast difference
It’s the shock of debut experience

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The Pentaprism

Sides
Angles
All of which a part
None of which the whole

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The Breathtaker

Throat wide open
No, no air
Scream, scream loud
No, not a sound
He walks away
He’s never coming back
He walks away
He’s the sole antidote
I am in tears
In crimson tears

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