Writing

She woke up that morning With runny mascara and way too high hopes For the guy she’d been f*****g Because he was a struggling artist ..

For anyone's friend

I said it slower than intended. Barely able to exhale. Squeezed from form It all out poured. As if a muted warrior, I swung my might..

Looking Back-Glass Easing into my mind, never happens softly. No dreamy embraces or favorite places. It’s never soft in the night, or whi..

Confessionalism

A synopsis plus an opening short excerpt of my first novel “An African Sunset”.

Your subconscious mind likes to play games, It creates alternate realities, Stagnant thoughts that refuse to leave, Nightmares that are bitterswee..

To those afraid of growing old. To those afraid of stagnacy.

A poem inspired by Desire.

My scars found poetry when they found no warm embrace.

Tags %23prose