Qu’est-ce que c’est?

I am a brave person. Well, I think I am. I walk tall. I stand tall.

Mirror, Mirror

I can still remember Those bleach white pages Thick with newness And painted with the brightest Colors

Bright Lights

Sitting here with you Is like watching the bright lights Flicker on and off With static buzzing in the night air As I contemplate these foreign emotions

Bloodstained Grass

Alright, dudes. Guest post! I know it’s been a while, and I’d thought we could shake things up a little bit. Here’s a first addition to the Coffeehouse page, where a short story is now featured! *** It’s been eleven years. Yet when I close my eyes, I can still feel the terror making itself…