Stories are created

From realities that have faded,

Already a grasp

To hold onto moments passed.


Liquor filled bellies and smoke filled lungs,

Numb nostrils and tabs placed on tongues.


I wrote a story once and lived it many times,

I became a poet and lived through my rhymes.


What part I play, and who is my figure,

Embodied by day, and nighttime even bigger.


I thought of a story,

I lived in a remedy.


So light me up, and

Pass me some.

I seek that drug, so

I can become.

— Mikal Shkreli

A NYC native, Mikal is a prolific writer who uses his art as a tool for self exploration in a spiritual dynamic. He teaches yoga and metaphysics, and created Mushakka as a platform to share his teachings and work. You can find him on Instagram, and he can be reached at

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