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MonikaTZ

  • The Burglar

    It's me Who like a burglarLeaves your house Covered inThe velvety softnessOf an early morningAnd the lingering smellOf your touchOn my neckMy stomachAnd my thigh Yet it's youWho robs my ...

    • Poetry
    • Lyrical
    1 min read
  • The Bird

    The bird in my chest Is thrusting Against the ivoryOf my rib cageThe noiseOf its fearUnables my thoughts And I Like the bird Thrust against The stillness of the world

    • Poetry
    • Lyrical
    1 min read


We are discreet sheep; we wait to see how the drove is going, and then go with the drove.
— Mark Twain