I feel like a bird with two sets of wings.
One set is mine, my own...

Sometimes, sadness
is a weight...

Remember way back then,
when a great ocean of dirt and...

Being part of the conversation is fun sometimes -
experiencing firsthand the bad jokes...

It's 3:30 in the morning in the middle of winter
but it's still too darn hot in this room...

It's two in the morning and I have to
be up in a measly four hours...

A crippling shyness
leads to self-imposed silence...

My mother always
told me to start small...

Rain's pitter-pattering on the rooftop
air tinged with a hint of winter breeze...

Never having experienced a white Christmas
and with an almost illogical disdain for snow...

A bump on my lip
just to the left...