I am the Torture Artist of that Living Soul of mine.
Tag Archives: poem
Existentialism at 2 a.m.
‘I feel like co-existing in an Other space: a world of Nothingness. Oh, sweet Absurdity!’
Gloomy Saturday
The Dark had won the battle once upon a time, in a Gloomy Saturday.
She longs to be a Frida
I write small words on long bones fractured by my everlasting pain, disrupting the fluidity of a forever damaged soul.
Alta's World 