Brooke Renwick Biography

Loneliness is a festering boil.

Say the fullness of my bones,
can be whittled and honed.
...

Quitting the puffer in my dreams,
but when I try my body screams.
Telling me to get some nicotine.
I have a blind spot so it seems.
...

What little creatures
live in my garden?
Snails and locusts,
avail by my pardon.
...

Love is in the air and,
I want to watch your derriere,
swing as you walk to the
bedroom to get changed,
...

I dream in vivid color.
I dreamt of grim death.
The Reaper's henchmen,
were gathering the lame.
...