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We suffer together - Some more, some less And the less console Themselves with how They aren't the more. We have aids and We are blind and We rot in gutters. Would it be rude If I prayed for us? I remember myself When I see you there And I wonder if We can make it to An elegant solution. Like a beautiful song Plays on human breath By means of a...

I remember your perfume and how its fragrance and your essence made me giddy, like fine champagne from a crystal flute, sparkling, how they made me act the fool and not care as long as I could see you, touch you, inhale you, feel you open yourself to me, but time passed, the chill crept in, and you and my love are shells of themselves since you...

The dusty jacket, tattered, did belie Within held pearls bespeaking truth To bring within perfect symmetry The recipe I needed in my youth So distracted I walked through the falling library Of shelves begging with every groan To collect pages torn falling unwary Those voices would fade to the unknown About flew ravens taunting with...

do you feel it? as you walk slowly through the dark, in this fallen neglected labyrinth of the mind, where mold and filth fester upon crumbling walls, and rainwater seeps and falls like tears of the damned, this once great building now diseased and decaying, a parody of the minds once entombed within, can you hear the echoes of the screams? from...

Sadness isn’t always obvious. Sometimes it shows up quietly, more like a fading feeling than something sharp. It can feel heavy, or just kind of hollow, like there’s a gap where something used to be, even if you can’t quite explain it. It has a way of making you slow down and pay attention. To what hurts, to what’s missing, or to things that...

The Iron Cage** Within a prison built of bone and sinew, He dwells, a captive, where no sun shines in. His flesh, a battlefield where armies clash, And joints, once fluid, now are bound in ash. Psoriasis, a crimson, crawling tide, Leaves burning trails where life should freely glide. Arthritis, with its gnawing, twisting grip, Has stolen...

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...