Throttling within colors, contours
not sure hitherto on what letter
I am hanging, as I pen down
this verse, or the color featuring
those tapping fingertips;
stripped from each inch of sanity…


Carrying a stumbling mind, tripping from
one crowd into another, measuring miles
I possibly will choke with, presently
before I seize the ladder back,

for like a wearied smoldering cigarette,
he guides deep breaths in;
I burn to ashes.

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link to Deprivation


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link to Lady Annabelle

Lady Annabelle

Lady Annabelle by TOKONI O. UTI  She has a will, she has a choice.  Now too loud to hear the noise.  All those who never wanted to be.  And all the voices that we see.  Today she drowns in her regrets.  Tomorrow she is silent but will not forget.  There is nothing else to give. […]