In an earlier incarnation, Hayden Veil enjoyed a successful career in software engineering, writing late-night poetry in pursuit of sanity. On 2 February 2020, the world of Hayden Veil changed: Ghosts became real and with its soul laid bare there was no turning back from the perpetual path of poetry.

ex.per.i.ment

By -

I’m experimenting
with life, or rather,
with being alive.
Not quite sure which
part will stick and
which witch will
light the candles.
The bonfire night
a long way away
yet I long for fire
the burning of
desire; inside

I suck ; always

By -

I suck on my fingers

Salty – from peanuts; salted n toasted

You stare; ?; !; ♡;

I have my doubts, you play me

always

Frown.

By -

Can I ask how I am doing ?

j’sais pas

Bewildered by the mysteries of tmblr

Her short skirt

Red lips

Hips

(I sometimes dream of rosehip drink)

Cloudless skies

(a life under a sun never setting)

A Jail, Yale ; the eyebrows and her

gray tank top

My second violin playing her

First fiddle and our symphony

a frown

b.l.i.n.d

By -

In the eye of Shai’tan

My minor misdemeanor is

As devoid of the embrace as

Counting the raindrops

Not falling – on my cheeks

In the eye of Shai’tan

Your minor mindemeanor is

As obvious as

1

2

3

I’m not counting

There is no need

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