Most recently published stories in Poets.
I believe in myself, in my ability to give and not to give. I believe in love and its fragility. I believe in the overcoming of being.
They say silence can be the loudest noise. And I agree with a little bit of regret. Because I can not escape the noise. You shot rounds of silence into my life.
The solution, The journey, Was never about entering the old and trying to fix it, To fit in, To conform, To deplete ourselves,
You know that feeling you get when you look into her eyes, it's so alluring. Driving the inner lust turning the thoughts to one of an amorist. They light the flames of your desire like an arsonist for hire. Together climbing new heights like Everest spirituality soaring past satellites. So prepossessing the cause of hearts racing. With each kiss you swear she's a goddess, hair luscious and rare as Atlantis. She moves every step with pure grace while heaven’s glow is upon her face. Aphrodite would gladly take her place for she's among the stars viewed as astrology. In her presents you become breathlessly for she is the definition of heavenly.
You consume my mind more than I’d like. And I’m not sure if it’s because, I really am gone that far, Or I’m just trying to capture a fantasy.
Freedom from My Fears
The most bizarre yet enthralling part about struggling with depression, is that you stop fearing everything you were scared of before.
We are nature. We are the universe. We are one. Deep down you know this. The big picture is only about love and light overcoming a fearful world...
Inspired by Dolly Parton's soft summer rain over Chip Young's thumb-picked guitar. Jolene, Jolene Where were you all my life?
A Yule Encounter
The world is all Jingle bells And Ho ho ho And Deck the halls And he has come to Say Goodbye I hear nothing of the frivolity
Who Am I?
Who am I? I am a dreamer. I am a believer. I am an addict.Addicted to cigarettes. I am an alcoholic.I am addicted to you. I am addicted to love.I am all of the above.
My Secret Garden
There is a rain that no one can see but I, People step through it, it bothers them none. Sometimes the rain makes a deafening cry,
My dragon breath sounds like a long who as the gray and white swirls of smoke flow outward. The day is bombarded with fog and blocked light