This is not just about keeping up anymore. This is not just about a goal anymore. This is my life, this is my story that people will tell after I’m gone. I’m making up for lost time. Making up for time I never had the…

The wrath of the heavens opens, Rains down upon our entire world, In that storm of all storms.   Only one survives, The last vessel, An ark of hope.   A millennia’s journey ends, And we approach optimistically, That third planet from the sun.

You sniff, smelling the thickening tar That is smeared across the road, And you gasp as the heat intensifies In the oven that is your car. The rumbles of cars idling slowly Almost lulls you into a slumber, But then you hear the screech, And…

Your brown tongue glistens, as though salivating to be licked. The heat at your centre sends radiance out, melting all around you until your tasty partners become an ooze that cannot get enough of you. You do have a sharp bit. Acidic- making me wince…

Hour 20 – 1:00 AM   Conspiracy theorist’s line up to tell me how to live my life. If I’m one of you, who’s to say I’m not doing it right ? Yours thoughts are as valid as gold. But if I’ve wearing 18K on…

fingers unwind, the very same that caressed when intertwined, mine in yours. and as we part, the halting caresses relive the painful moments of canorous, crooning, warbled words. wishful thoughts… the very words, your dainty fingers, sometime before this sepulchral silence, on my gnarled and…

it’s not wacky wednesday but the tree is on fire and somewhat upside down but to extinguish would be to electricute it’s not manic monday but it’s a housewide blackout my internet is disconnected at the root it’s not freaky friday but damn I have…

Now I lay me down to sleep I jolt myself awake Poetry looms before me now Don’t fall asleep for God’s sake   Pull yourself up by your bootstraps Or at least your comfy old socks Don’t put your head down for even a sec…

she wore an orange silk camisole underneath her cotton blouse making every breeze more interesting to those who stood over her while she rode the bus from fayette to montford and it had never dawned on her that anyone would even desire a peek much…

The words he spoke were fairy floss, Their taste so sugary sweet, You’d swear if it was possible, They’d be all you’d ever eat, But the thing with wads of fairy floss, Is they’re always quick to melt, Until you’re sticky with the memories, Of the love…