The fire before meis hungry for my words — but I have yet to seea phoenix…
By day, I drink words of the deadfrom a goblet of tearsand age-old anguish.
The blood in my hands feels stuckVeins, frozen solidBacked up by the wordsI’ve let…
Everyone’s threshold is different. I guess you get used to the pain,like crumpled pieces of…
I am waving across the lake, mirroring the size of the ripple before meMy eyes are…
The heightswere too cloudyfor my lungsto survive
her head comes up for airfrom beneath the cloudsas she parts waywith the…