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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...

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...

**The Heart of a Tempest** A storm within, a raging, endless sea, Where waves of anger crash eternally. A heart of stone, a soul of iron cast, Forever bound to this tempest, forever fast. The pain, a viper, gnawing at his core, Leaving wounds that fester, evermore. Rage, a wildfire, burning fierce and bright, Consuming reason, plunging him in...

You made a comment today. And suddenly I was back— Not in a memory, But in a feeling I thought I’d outgrown. That room with too many voices, Too many eyes that never met mine, Only glanced, judged, And moved on. They never said I was too much. They didn’t have to. It was in the empty seat beside me, The way they shifted in shared silence, As if my...

You may not be able to see me, but that does not mean I am no longer here. You may not be able to touch me, but that does not mean I am gone forever. The physical world may know me to be dead, but I am, in truth, very much alive – more alive, in fact, than I have ever been, In ways that you do not understand. You think that I am unaware of how...

How can you love when hate's all you've known? How can you arrive when the chance has flown? Love feels so distant, hard to comprehend; When words lose their melody, and rhythms won't blend. Without a guide to show you the way, Will you wander in circles, lost day after day? In a world without maps, where paths intertwine, How do you find...

Going into my garden this time of year is like seeing an aging friend. We used to talk of the future, now he speaks of the end. Strong, open arms that once hugged me grow more frail each visit it seems. He is wearing yellows and browns, I remember him in summery greens. Our words that seem business as usual are actually a long goodbye. I head...