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 firstname.lastname@example.org.