what if I never write again?the internal humdrum of the mind derives my facilities.a place I never want to go,yet crave on a hazy day.
I find that my mind is always on edge. New thoughts spinning in the stratosphere of my simple yet complex brain. Neurons firing…
Sara hated her name.
Not her nickname, which was Sara, but her given name — Saraswati. She was teased a…
The Buck strolled down the hill through the midwestern forest. The rolling mountainsides were covered in trees and…
Yesterday, I was sitting on a park bench just enjoying the sunshine. A woman came up, and she…
A boy spends his day contemplating the hypocrisy of communication in the parent-child dynamic.
A haiku (the third and final part);
A haiku;
The definition
of friend — is subjective to
the values you hold.