Self-betrayal for my art

05:09am Picture painted by Abasido I’ve held grudges for mid-nights that refused to give me the right words, for ecstatic memories I needed to feel at times like this. Here’s how people who applaud the cracks and loopholes in my craft talk to me. Did you hear them? Did you see what I wrote about them?…

A chronicle of the girl, the art and nothing

It was the outrage that came from her timid being that bored them all. Her overwhelming stream of emotions and reach for the presence not present. It  had sparked the uneasiness of the rest who couldn’t stand what they called “the girl”. They thought of her conversations as one filled with illusive poems and a…