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i am a monster poem

Monster

You aren’t so close to me That I start whispering secrets In your ears, These secrets are afraid of distance, And if you were near I would be talking to your eyes More than to your ears, I might slip them down your lips, And

the faceless art for scottshak's poem the false protagonist

The False Protagonist

Maybe I read too much In my wilted time, And crumble when I don’t find You, in my pages. Red eyes scour you, Like you were written In there somewhere By my favourite author. Your mere mention Thrills me so, That every face Is the one

image for my player poem by scottshak

My Player

You take out the best in me Then play with it for hours, Fumble me in your fingertips, Poke me with your fun, Hold me so tight That I fear not slipping, But being toyed with For too long. I am written in dust, But

a person in a dark room photography for pitch black

Pitch Black

So I walk into this room and it is painted in black. All the four walls, written in pitch darkness. For a second, I felt as if I have stepped into the night. But there were no stars or moon inside. Just a charcoal story

corpse a musing by scottshak

Corpse

I don’t rule out your possibility, never have. All the things they say about fate, gives me butterflies knowing how mysteriously I have been picked up and placed on a foreign land as if I were some part of a big plan, that I had

broken eggs chicken poultry image

Poultry

My, my! What a life! What a life! Bred to breathe A moment, It passes by In a shuteye, And then I realize I am picked up To be ground In a machine Yet again; Did I not just die? Why repeat the cycle again,

spokesman poetry by scottshak

Spokesman

Don’t link people with me, I represent none But one, That’s me, You see, I am my own spokesman, Who speaks words, Which sing of birds With a curse To never fulfill each other, I am a murder Of hopes, On the ropes Of defeat,

rafa my story book review

Rafa: My Story Book Review

Get to know him better! If you are a Rafa fan, or even if you are not, you should not miss it for the world. The modest superhuman has a side we didn’t know of, and Rafa My Story introduces you to the real him.

mask poem by scottshak

My Mask

Break me apart, Tear into my soul, Teether me away, Crumble me till I let out a teardrop For it is in such moments I am divine, True to myself in my truest form, Vulnerable, Breakable, And yet undeniably powerful, And if you wish to