“The spikes of the cactus which grows in my heart, are alike the water lilies that only bloom in the dark.”

The state of nothingness ends, but the longing for it never does!

Eddying towards my zero points four mystery misted pens naked nib, the stars splash starlight ridden waves, on my ever-circling emotions.

Add the frozen dreams, to the passionate flavor, in you and there you are, having the best of you!

A narrative told in the infinite galaxy of colors that melt into white and, brushstrokes bourne upon land who are titled ‘human beings’.

Nothing was trying to hurt me, except my own thoughts, which felt like needles, trying to stitch tears within my eyes.

Time stops for the heart to tick-tock!

Petals and thorns grew hand in hand, realizing themselves, the oneness in them didn’t seem afar!

Santa sobs recalling December’s decor, navigating joys volcano, overcoming dawns of insomnia, waking the snowflakes to find, yearlong sleep, which delightfulness sneaks!

My love is like a trigonometry problem simplified by my heart’s mint green genies, the broken being in me sings a million epiphanies, my life is but colors spilled in polaroids of caring butterflies.

The glass is broken into particles that now accept themselves as art.

Thoughts in bottles battled and shattered the glass of their containers, which floated in the ocean like a sun made of diamonds.

The sound of wind chimes, soothing my mind, removing all the frames of my mind, takes me straight away, to the depth, depth of my mind!

The day I know who I am, why and how is known of me, I will be me, Me: free from thorns and petals that go round and round, in heads and heels, and would reveal me, me indeed!

My heart isn’t a song of silver and gold, it holds a million graves of solitary souls.

I was a glittering sea waving at me, like a child smiling in his father’s lap, the waves lapse every time the sea sees the child in me!

Prohibited from plucking my bluebell emotions, my non-existent existence keeps kindling the aroma of my love.

I’ll see your darkness and love you anyway.

Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.

We must be willing to encounter darkness and despair when they come up and face them, over and over again if need be, without running away or numbing ourselves in the thousands of ways we conjure up to avoid the unavoidable.

Out of darkness is born the light.

Even on the darkest days the sun still rises.

We younger Negro artists who create now intend to express our individual dark-skinned selves without fear or shame. If white people are pleased we are glad. If they aren?t it doesn?t matter.

To be honest it became quite dark and cold – without her.

These days everything has a dark mode. I feel – accepted.