For the ghost who haunts my dreams, pale and skinny emo...the guy who looks like me, White Man, you are the part of me I hate the most...

For the man who has learned to lie so well that he convinced even himself that he doesn’t care. A poem for the man who doesn’t have the...

He said if growing up means giving up, then I’d rather stay a child seeing a world full of beauty, hoping for the future...