One day you’re eighty, sipping on a lukewarm cup of coffeeIt’s quiet in your head, quieter outsideThe same life that sprinted…
Leaning against the glass panel beside the seats facing the door, my gaze was inadvertently drawn to a familiar face as she stepped…
There were no tears that had not yet sizzled and evaporated around the rims of his eyes, no…
Poetry
We’re broken,but we’re not defeated.
A Man Still Drowning