PCOD
Poetry / Writing

PCOD

 PCOD  my body is a bleeding boatthere’s firecrackers and soft stones bursting out of my womb and onto the footpath;the cracking noise was my ribs,in case you were wondering. my body is a bleeding boatit swells and the limbs spread like they were crucified with gold nails,i am not allowed to condemn my conveniences even if they … Continue reading

Rust
Poetry

Rust

What is rust, if not time? Born of white, grew into yellow, and died at bronze But why don’t pages rust? Is it because the words carved into them don’t have enough metal to beat the metal? Is it because they don’t have enough magic to beat science? Or is it simply because bronze can’t … Continue reading