one night
it dawn on me...

Through the window, a snowflake falling on the...
like a raindrop, shapely frozen, but melting on...

I am tired
Just tired...

Please, turn the candles on and pray.
Today at recess, I was mad...

No one ever felt this close...
I'll always be a shore...

Under your bed, hides a memory...
a distant thought covered in dust...

There's this thing called the ego,
It likes sitting on the passanger seat...

In the kitchen, a bowl so dull
with an owl in a pole, the color of coal...

It's not a day or a night that I would like,
Or an afternoon or a midnight that I would prefer...

Like pencils locked in drawers,
one by one, remained silent...

Why must I write using imagery?
Should I paint words as if those words...

It's just a tear in my eyes,
That breaks my heart, and makes me sad...