Julius Whitfield : Writing

Additive For Solitude

Additive For Solitude

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


I've drawn out the formation And in this set selection, I've removed the disguise Concealing the stone fixture of disbelief Below the descension, ..
[untitled]

[untitled]

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


I've watched the cycling gears of greed steer us into this downfall It is a sovereign A trinket of beneficial faith Its nothing more than a prayer ..
The Gossamer, The Chump, and The Weakling

The Gossamer, The Chump, and The Weakling

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


The path of the scapegoat bleeds His mind descends in disbelief From the struggle The calm of the cerulean sky Guides his ghost Through this scar..
Fears of Fire

Fears of Fire

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


There arouse a lesion on my skin Her mind was a supernova The brisance left my flesh on fire With my last breath being slowly counted down Her eye..
The Babydoll

The Babydoll

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


This result is a consequence Of you feeling so tired Wipe those salty tears from your eyes You're not longer empty or a bit shy So reach out to t..
Disheveled

Disheveled

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


These arms are burning of a result That this bleak mind is no longer fogged by disillusion Unloved, the vermin rises in anger Cower in idiocy with ..
The Promise of A Black God

The Promise of A Black God

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


Intimidation seeds desire Welcoming a subject of a rare and unyielding breed Obeisant magnolia eyes never hitting the mind's empire Sardonic shell ..
Supernova

Supernova

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


This star that's been possessed Glows on Through these eyes, the image is reborn Into the lungs pulsates a reflection of gold Just to return the s..
Lights Out

Lights Out

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


the lights went out she bit the bullet her demons held her down when she felt closer the lips have lied if only she could have undressed what wa..
its a downer to pick up this silver spoon to dig up rather than bury

its a downer to pick up this silver spoon to dig u..

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


reactionary... may i represent you to undress yourself in this spine, we tread down the broke roads of vertebrae once again you curl, but that's o..