I'm 20 years old, working on my sixth novel and publishing poetry and short stories in the meantime! nathanheardwords.com
Curious the joy that we take in a light fall of snow. Powdery, wet flakes swirl down from the sky, precursor to a curse
I’ve been in this nest for my whole life, I think; my wings are stronger now, my feathers more firm. A fledgling, am I ready to fly
Salt Water It always brings to bear everything that you want not to consider. It surrounds you, and if there is so much
Half-buried in the coarse sand, mostly submerged under a sheen of foam constantly renewed by the now gentle, now violent lapping or crashing of the waves,
It springs from the ashes of a devastating fire and yet I cling to the chance that the pain, the charred ground, the wasteland,
Our conversation lulls for a moment too long, and I feel awkward, uncomfortable… unsure what to say or do next. So I pull out my phone.