the hands of god
find joy in who you are.. the hands of god I remember alcohol and cigarette butts violence and the occasional cops I remember not...
memory
sometimes there’s not enough rain to wash over me sometimes the tears I cry leave me weighted down as they escape down mine cheeks...
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i've already died a thousand deaths all of them in my head i look up at the clock tick tock tick tock this morning has stretched itself...
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in each line in each stroke defined exquisitely drawn in its simplicity in every cell it takes to miraculously be in each wondrous...
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I used to dislike Sundays. Uncomfortable uneasiness, restless, odd subconscious expectations lingering. I have never managed to work a...
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You know you take these words and you spin them. Elaborate tales of your own existence. Descriptive definitions of what society, not the...
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there seems to be an innate need to fix everything that is realigning beauty to perfection defined by the blindness of human sight but...
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have you ever looked at the stars and wondered.. have you ever loved ..and lost or so you thought have you ever felt totally...
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“We come from matter” he said somewhat angrily. I looked at him, more so because of the subtle hostility than the difference in belief....
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eye to eye have you met my gaze have you faced that what is eye to eye when you can’t take in what is reflected back you have met the...
