Missing Mornings Reprise | Poem

I go to bed at night and sleep until the afternoon Always missing the sun when it’s birthed and new I keep sleeping through the day and I’m yearning for more I’m missing mornings I’m missing time in gaps and spaces My life is a blip, memories getting shipped away to another galaxy– I’m missing…

job.

you don’t remember waking up. you don’t remember walking here. office could be a manifestation of your mind’s loneliest desire, you wouldn’t care. you have a job to do, the job is work. you walk the halls, the halls are barren and swollen with your thoughts, occasionally you hear the distant voice. you give it…

Missing Mornings | Poem

Stainless steel left a stain on my skin Not sure where the pain stops and my body begins Oh, please, please let me in seeing you again–you’re a friend Now I won’t ever get to get you and I don’t think I will ever get you But that don’t mean I won’t ever miss you…

Attachment & Art

You must respect art not for art’s sake but for your own. Your obsession with what you find meaningful and personal even though it will never know you exist will make you and everything you touch monstrous. You will spend many long, wakeful nights in your grave pondering over what you have destroyed, never knowing…

Bold | Saturday Poem

The boldest faces are the ones making the transition from babbles to bubbly speech. The boldest thoughts are spoken aloud from the smallest and high-pitchiest of mouths. The most audacious dreams come from the youthful minds uncorrupted by flocks of fear and failure. As is all things, the newest to come and the soonest to…

Cherubs of Blaiic | Poem

No greater beings can be found in the entirety of this earthly plane to hold the essence of spirituality and purity as the cherubs of Blaiic No human kindness can compete, no mortal action can compare to the effervescent vivacity within a cherub of Blaiic’s care They hail from a northern kingdom guarded by silver…

Winter Love | Quote

“The winter loves me… I mean as much as you can say a season can love. What I mean is, I love winter, and when you really love something, then it loves you back, in whatever way it has to love.” – A Separate Peace by John Knowles

reality | poem

In my head, jumping from memory to fantasy, just to pass the time, just to keep me happy and alive. In my head thinking of the “what if,” just to pass the time, just to keep me quiet and alive, a brand new reality awaits me, like diamonds, like dimes, like some new old life…

Friendship | Prose

The best way to start a friendship is to begin, earnestly and swiftly, sowing the seeds of its ruin. For when they try to escape, the object of your adoration will be entrapped in a garden of thorn-baring lies and intoxicating, ivory snakes, hungry and innocent eyes plunging the adoree into deep, black waters. ~…

existence in a vaccum | poem

to be taken to a place, a mirrorless world, to say it clearly, a world devoid of everyone save for I. a place meant for me and the colors of my brain, where busy fingers cannot tousle my hair. the songs of the north and the south are deaf to me, the writings of the…