top of page
Search
  • Anxious Poets Society

eleutheromania


dawn’s approaching, outside, the psithurism’s heard, my wholeness already swathed by the morning breeze; as if inviting me on a sound sleep, yet, still awake— shattered heart, fractured self, lost soul. . . screaming thoughts; the monsters— they’re killing me. in this four-corner concrete— i was caged. finding freedom, i, scared— that they won’t hear this cry for help. i, afraid— they won’t feel, i can’t breathe, and won’t notice my agony.

 

Keen Balcorta was born and raised in Alaminos City, Pangasinan, Philippines. She is currently a 12th grade student taking up General Academic Strand. At the moment, she's still on the crossroads in choosing the path she will take in life; writing gives her comfort and freedom in times of anxiousness.

#screaming #monsters #freedom #caged #sleep

50 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

I. Your skin is wet paste sticking to a hospital wristband Under an empty wide gaze that sees nothing. Though I imagine how pretty you must look With your friends at the park, Lying on a picnic table,

blank paper sheets waiting to be filled on the study table, she picked her pen up every ink burst’s her spell word by word, she started weaving kingdom—her utopia. before her eyes, an ethereal scenery

More powerful than a locomotive, able to leap reality in a single bound, it’s a nuclear bomb, it’s a super computer: it’s the age-old strain of virulent addiction. Once in its ravenous and raptor claw

bottom of page