Nina Souza Grouès (Age: 18)

I think I should’ve written a poem yesterday about time passing – or May honestly I don’t really speak clockwork  something uneases me about how they lurk   The truth is time waits for no one It feels a bit...

each sigh that has ever escaped my mother’s lips has set off fires in our walls that roared my name I realized today how tired they seemed of burning last night had finally fed me my own smoke by what...

I am made of perceptions. I see the clouds, the trees, but most often people. I see them as they wish to be seen, but also the part they believe occult. No matter if voluntary or not, they leave traces...