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They gnaw at the edges of me, little sharp-toothed things with hollow eyes, crawling from the cracks in my skull to lap at the marrow of my thoughts. I used to fight them. I used to starve them. But hunger makes them cruel. So now I lay the table. Silver plates of regret, goblets brimming with old wounds, a banquet of memories too raw...

He stands alone, an obelisk beneath the sun, his hands still blackened from the tar’s old murmur, the shovel, stiff like history, resting at his side. The street is silent now, the fracture filled, its gaping maw of ruin smoothed, a sleek insignificance to all who pass. They will not notice. They never notice— the absence of damage, the absence...

Rooted in place, too many things pulling at it. Instead of being nourished, it gives and gives. It withers, draws itself inward, yet the roots are still searching, still trying to give of themselves. It tore itself up by the roots and flew off, not knowing where it was headed. It crashed straight into a wall and fell to the ground. It lay there...

A void template Freedom so pure Paid in ignorance Wisdom matures Lies slowly wither Truths roots run deep Now the cost is clear We were too young to see

the town had just come into view as the western sky turned a brilliant blue he pulled up alongside a prickly pear lit up a stogie and rested his mare how long will this beauty last he'd wonder the calm was hushed by distant thunder no time to dawdle as the blue went gray it's rollin' in fast best be on our way the echoes roll in the western...

Only the night matters, its granaries filled with gold, the awakening of the voice. Under the regime of the sun time bends the heart, waiting frays the mind. That's where I survive, among fragments of screams and visions of blue; my dream-horse lost in the desert.

thousands of miles from where my name means something in a city where no one knows me— it still feels like home. not the warm kind. not the kind with open arms and someone waiting at the door. the quieter kind. the colder kind. the kind i’ve known for as long as i can remember. i’ve always known loneliness. it was never loud. just steady. like...