A petulant night visitor returns.
The Inhabitant
Until We End
I was most at peace in the dead barrens
Here
Dwelling on the perfection of days long gone past
Slurry
Churning daily, hourly, minute by minute
How To Travel With Anxiety
There's a magic that exists When you visit a new land The journey alone is nearly enough Embarking on the quest is fulfillment Perhaps now that void will be satisfied Only No matter how far you travel The same constraints restrain It's impossible to outrun yourself It's not easy to see the world Without first …
Parking Lot Siren
What to do when something odd calls outside your window in the dead of night.
Top of the World | A Poem
I've always been afraid of heights
Autumn Afternoon Heat
This warm sensation of the quick burning-out star on wind-blown skin is such a fast-acting superficial drug not quite a dream but in the long-winded scope of forever it is a momentary bliss.
The Way
A moment or two ago the way Was well-lit Safe passage When the way turned becoming Obscure Lost Or not but so Far-removed From anything That resembles a welcoming No obvious avenue back to Retraced time long gone Only forward Into exponentially expanding Differential timelines Some with such a bottomless murk Like moths The nearest …
Fade
A poem.
Descent
There is solace in gripping with claws outstretched at the smooth slippery walls of the pit
Demolish The Block 