With my words misplaced in the dirt
winter memories...

My heart's a graveyard,
cold and bitter...

*Written as more of a song. But it works as a...
No skin...

Give me life
or give me ash...

I am the backwards God;
the streets...

In fields of dried and twisted trees
my memories reflected on the leaves...

I share, this stare,
watching all these eyes...

As a palm is outstretched,
yellowed and whispering of age...

It walks among the dead,
a faded image to homeless men...

Do you ever wonder
do you ever dream...

***My lover and I have recently encountered...
Oh how I wish our fires did not die...

***As of recently, I've been having relationship...
The seas beneath my feet are spinning, twirling...