Darkness and me, we are a team
then there is this hippie waiting to be born...

When writing at night
my mind is clear...

You may not like us
it's obvious that you don't...

I am walking along the beach
cold foam is hitting my feet...

I remember children running through the house
cats hiding under the couch...

Growing up
we still had four seasons...

A flower
sitting on the side of the road...

People have walked in and out of my life
only a few remain in my heart...

With every thought my pen is pressing harder on...
the cramping in my hand is getting stronger...

With his skin so soft
his rosy lips...

How can I fly with a broken wing?.
After so many times there was never no proper...

I've been lying to myself
for the sake of my child...