From the vault, date unknown, sometime 2005-2006. They look like a manic Scribbled words at r a n d o m on blank paper, no structure, s Catte red all. over. Something out of a ransom It’s like I drank ink and spit it, a dark blotchy messBut those words on that page are me at my best Continue reading Manic
From the Vault, edited slightly before posting. Originally dated sometime in 2006 or so. Winter’s not so badWhen the snow lands on rooftopsAnd the ice begins to bindLocking everything downBut for a moment, the world is stillNot that those houses have legsBut boy, those walls sure could talkCould’ve fooled me anyway It’s twenty below and I’m dying of heatMust be all that hot air escaping … Continue reading Twenty Below
The cool air acts as a net, wrapping the trees in its hollow embraceThe dewey fog resting quietly over the lake,protecting the creatures below while they sleepThe distance becoming even more distant – hidden,in plain sightThe water lays still, invitinglybut just a drop of it is enough to send a chill up your spineA line sinks into the waterLost to the thick algae beneathThe tiny hairs … Continue reading Rabbit Bay
If these walls could talk, surely, they’d screamSo loud that this whole house would shakeAnd there I’d sit,restlessly, anxiouslyOn the bed I’d grown into and out of,Under the same frames holding the same pictures that have faded from each days protruding sunlight This room where I spent so many nights laying awakeDesperately searching for some semblance of worthiness, of purpose,Watching the cracks inch from floor to … Continue reading These Walls
Crooked Forest 