I am a brave person. Well, I think I am. I walk tall. I stand tall.
I can still remember Those bleach white pages Thick with newness And painted with the brightest Colors
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
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…
pure and clean fun and carefree it’s how we describe the ones we want to be the innocent the beautiful the young