Biography of Zinger Wingz
Just a 20 year old girl trying to master the arts,
Zinger Wingz Poems
A jab to the heart is a jab to your brains Like a hot knife piercing and popping veins The nothingness and nowhereness circles in the blood that has lost its past form. The blood shed that has become the oblivious norm.
I Matter: Why'd You Kill Me
I had dreams of becoming a doctor a chef a model a teacher I had the potential to be all of it to grow tall and beautiful and give back to my country I dreamt of making my parents proud someday
Heart 2: Turned Black
We'll smile with tears in our eyes With our heavy hearts Dragging us down It's imprisoned
I was never ready If my heart gives out right now Where does it go to? How will it feel?
Do You See Me?
Let's cry. Let the tears wash me Rid me of all my hurt Dissolve me rearrange me
Delicate are the insides. Dropping Cracking Breaking Splattering Always so close to something To the chest,
These dreams are toxic Illusion in an illusion It's an ongoing trance Waking up a million times before actually waking up
Im not dust I'm nothing.. More than flesh more than bones But not worthy of a higher appraisal than dust. I'm owed nothing,
When I met you, you were dead But your smile took me to realms the living would never imagine But When you met me I was alive, awake
I'm blindly starring into a photograph A portrait of that which could've been watered into greatness An image of myself A younger me
I'm lost in a cloud somewhere Life is cradling back and forth. There's a tingling heat rushing down my spine And I just feel so calm and gone like in the midst of silence.
Dreaming Reality 2: Ice-Cream Truck
A picture of him is all I have to remind me of how he looked. But the face in that picture is not able to replay his images and being in my imagination.. He's voice is something that will never be familiar to me.. He's smell is unscented in my life
Trapped In A Hollow
Trust... They'll start on the outside And end on the outside. Impenetrable walls of abstract
Assiah: A Letter From Earth
My name is Assiah I've been alive for dozens of centuries And was originally made out of land, water and life's mysteries But due to industrial modernization
Trapped In A Hollow
They'll start on the outside
And end on the outside.
Impenetrable walls of abstract
Your inside exists to no one to be exact.
I hate myself for hating myself.
So pathetic, I hung my confidence far up on a high shelf.