I felt the blades of grass swipe across the skin that was just above my socks as I walked through the overgrown field. I could see her bright unnatural hair on the other side as she stood just in front of the woodlands. She had on heavy rain boots and kicked the sticks that lay… Continue reading I’m Sorry; a flash fiction
There is something so heroic about wreckage. about this wreckage about our wreckage like the ocean shore after the storm as we watch all the ocean things scurry deep back into hiding and all it’s pretty things smashed as the water meets the land like a broken lover. all the colors scattered like bed sheets.… Continue reading Wreckage; a poem
I am terribly afraid. I am scared of becoming the piece of past you ran from. That I may become a living memory that is not my own. Same record; different break. You see, I have this tendency to lose myself in people. I won’t find my beginning and end; nor my middle. I only… Continue reading The Past Poem; a poem
Most people wear their love on their eyelids. It fits well on on our half moons and sometimes sun. Illuminates whom it inhabits as it forces their eyes to close until they start dreaming of things beyond rabbit holes. But you, you my darling, wear it on your shoulders like forgotten burdens. You’ve become condemned… Continue reading Condemned Love; a poem.
Who ever said that the pen was greater than a sword has never held a hand Or never dropped a hand Never wandered why it felt heavier without the hand. Without your hand. Running through these hills. These hills that demanded a sacrifice. You sacrificed me, left me in the valley. So I fell in… Continue reading These Hills; a poem
You didn’t falls for that man. You didn’t even gracefully descend upon him like you should have. No, my darling,you fell for love himself. He showed you the corners and colors of the potential universes and you wanted to stay there. But there is no home in him for you, and he will not make… Continue reading Fell For Love; a poem.
I can see the clouds crowding together in the sky and a ball of excited makes a home in my gut. The storm is coming. That glorious thunder and minor chaos; it could make anyone feel like the calm one. So when the storm rolls in, I gather myself into a comfy spot. Then I… Continue reading The Observation of the Sky and I; A short Essay.