i felt it.
entering the crevices
with venomous
insistence.
settling.
like ice in rocks.
weathering
then
splattering
the remnants
of suppressants
into blocks.
locked.
in perpetual
cycles
of sufferance.
crumbling.
crumbling.
crumbling.
© Hudson Biko
Tag: creative writing
stay
sometimes i wish
i could open
the doors
without thinking
that they
would always
leave through
the windows.
sometimes i wish
more things stayed.
© Hudson Biko
Photograph by Martin Reisch
solace 🥀
sigh
my existence
is this constant oscillation
between
feeling so heavy
because everything is so empty
and
feeling so empty
because everything is so heavy
© Hudson Biko
Photograph by Oscar Keys
Belonging II
Maybe the only things that stay
are the leaves
stuck
against the screams
of windows
shattering
(as we finally let go)
© Hudson Biko
Photograph by Tj Holowaychuk
hudson biko 