I don’t remember the exact moment I died or why my thoughts still wander beyond the grave or why my ghost cannot rest still desperately clawing postcards, letters and lonely verse into the dirt of my worm infested heart that feasts on the love and longings never read, never sent but only lost…
Kill The Messenger is now available
Kill The Messenger, an insomniac’s collection of darkness, defiance, questioning and counting losses, dissecting dreams, battling depression and the memories that sting like madness, like rage that leaves deep wounds in the heart of love marred by the scars lingering like bitter obsessions, like hope, like sorrow waking to survival, life in spite of the…
The Language of Poetry and Dreams
Voices scream out from the fog of sleep into the conscious whisper of dreams waking silences of the heart speaking forgotten truths from the depths of those far away places within…… ©Debbie Berk
The Poetic Flesh
I think of you, thoughts that touch me like the naked whispers of your poetic flesh I long to write my dreams upon ©Debbie Berk / 11/14/2014
She
The face of darkness mystery within mask stranger looking back deep into the reflection of memory, of loss that hangs like the dust in the corners of life’s mirrored cracks sticky as sleep in the eye of sorrow, heavy as the dream waking lonely to the bitter dawn blemished by the kiss of loveless shadows…
