The breath of winter’s lungs, chills us to the bone
The cold is prickly, making the body weak and feeble
Despite our menagerie of fabric draped upon us, with stitching keeping us concealed, our delicate flesh protrudes out, adjusting the texture of our usually smooth skin
Read MoreTapestry of Loss
A visual poem written and directed by Lily Berzoza.
Read MoreIt’s winter again, your happiest seasons have passed. The snow piles up on your window and everything has frozen over. You lose your mind and sit there scrolling. Reeling in who you think you should be, but you don’t know. Hell, you don’t think you ever will. Are you capable of looking outside yourself, outside of the battle in your skull?
Read MoreShattered glass, glass that has been picked up and put back together time and time again with glue, low-quality glue, but glue nonetheless. The glue is what keeps it together, as it is medication or pure ignorance. It acts as a protector from the things shattered glass chooses not to see. The glue, in its opinion, helps the shattered glass. It saves the shattered glass from any more harm, from tiny disputes to detrimental conflict. What the glue does not know is that the shattered glass no longer wants protection but to feel the war within, to fight, to live, to survive, to die. The shattered glass pleads and pleads with the glue, but the glue is relentless; it sees no problem with staying put; it is a creature of habit by pure definition: “Someone who has a noticeable number of habits that determine or characterize his behavior, a methodical kind of person, a very willing slave to routine.” (Unknown Author).
Read MoreEvery day is the same
My eyes are tired
My face is long
My lips are pursed
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