BONE DUST

I have a drawer full of stars A reminder of who we are All the bones we collected Have lost their meaning And are piling up useless All I have left of the world Is this drawer full of hopes Remnants of what came Memories of what’s gone Just left over bone dust And the…

ONCE UPON A PERSON

  Your words Specifically Formed Strung themselves Into paralleled Straight lines Your thoughts True stories Memories Told meticulously Very, very carefully Upon the screen For all of us to read And if not for that I’d have missed The beauty That is you

THE EXTINCTION OF AUTHENTICITY

Life is hard. Just navigating all the necessary bullshit is frustrating enough. I can do without all the unnecessary stuff. Gossip, rumors, competition, backbiting, jealousy… Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to distinguish a person’s real intent just by looking at them? What happened to authenticity? Sometimes I feel like asking people to fill…

LEARNING TO TURN BLOOD INTO BREATH

I am not a writer. I am very adamant on this point.  I write but that doesn’t make me a writer.  A writer spends many hours learning the art of writing.  They learn the rules and understand its etiquette.  I know some amazing writers and to call myself a writer would seem disrespectful. BUT you…