a poet,
he pens
fervent reminders.
she reads
clicking ‘like’,
collecting each one.
an inner
monologue.
their conversation.
pure, so
truly fragile
our whispers of love.
his poems
on a bracelet
her reminder each day.
a poet,
he pens
fervent reminders.
she reads
clicking ‘like’,
collecting each one.
an inner
monologue.
their conversation.
pure, so
truly fragile
our whispers of love.
his poems
on a bracelet
her reminder each day.
Again feeling nothing
an emptiness prevails
the mind is numb
the heart is fragile
I ask questions from myself
but there seem to be no answers
Again feeling nothing
it is a large void
where I exist with myself
with nothing to feel.

Need I pass away to find a new world ?
Because I decay, your voice is unheard,
And I’m lead astray by my easiness,
Instead I should pray for some forgiveness…
But my wounds linger as I don’t take care
Of my old body, though I am aware
Of my condition and of my weakness,
That’s my complexion and that’s my darkness.
I need a new life in this space and time,
Not a new excuse, not a waste of time !
Will you follow me on the alleyways
Of my twisted path on these fragile days ?
Antoine Burgos
Where I stand
Oh! I forgot I can’t stand
I am defeated
I am injured
I am fragile
I can’t stand
Where I stand
I sit… I can not stand
I wait for the end to come
The life is too heavy
For me to attend
Hereby I sit
Hence I can’t stand
Where I stand
Unfortunately I am not standing
Because I can’ stand.