if i understood how to open my eyes would i dare to gaze beyond the fragile strands that define the only place i’ve ever known
Category: Poetry & Prose
Small Deaths
i’ve never felt quite right wrapped in confusion at the perceived motivations around me never really a direction but displacement from the things and the
Once, Was Summer
Meet me by the tree, the one from my youthDays spent climbing, swinging, longing, dreamingYellow Jackets and an occasional stingLong summer days that never seem
Lost In A Dream Of Ghosts
It’s in the grip of these days I lose track of things Once easily remembered It all blurs so suddenly Passing me by without notice
Everyone Gets the Bullet
Strange workings These days The inner Twisted to outer Painted with lies They no longer smile No need to hide True intentions For we are
Everything We Waste
in solitude we find that which brings a lost dialogue on the contemplation of what it means to be without the need for admiration or
The Stories In Between 