Culture for the Uncultured

hello hello, my dear reader! I am currently preoccupied with board exam prep and therefore no original poem. But here's ONE SINGLE section f

sapling of silence once buried has bloomed into bloody flowers of memories. mud has you dirty; wretched soil! cleanse the self with...

Picture credits: Gabrielle Rogers, @shipinbottles.com I write you letters Brown paper boats that float on tears The men at sea understand...

Stop visiting me, dear It’s too late now My lungs have fallen onto the butterflies in the basement Stop smiling at my misery. It’s just...

With your fingertips of acid, Foaming at the mouth; I’ll remain perfectly placid, Scars when you’re done. You’re Grinning at my body; at...

How does one befriend the people they've killed- How does a murderer embrace missing life? The man who loathes death lends himself first...

I laugh But it isn’t all that funny but for your painted smug which if I wiped would stain my hand with pretty pernicious pigment and I...

since feeling is first who pays any attention to the syntax of things will never wholly kiss you; wholly to be a fool while Spring is in...

Which one more terrifying Fine character smooth and blurred Like opalescent glass Waiting to be shattered And dusted away; aloof Or is it...