Most of my brain is like a chalkboard. The people and events in it drawn…

Don’t tell me I’m getting older, You won’t want to start this war, There’s a…

It’s just a question He whispered, leaning toward me But is it? People talk…

I’m really cold today.  My hands are numb and it hurts to type. It’s…

I still dwell on the day we met I was buying groceries from the spice…

Mist atop the mountain cools the skin, But fills the lungs and never leaves It…

There was once a place of rock and cloud Where men climbed moons  Their…

Red, neon red, fills my snow white flesh  Red trapezing through my veins  Fresh red,…

I am woman “Exploited” from is in my dictionary exclusively Every single day But…

The woman in the glasses sits skeleton and quiet behind the desk of mahogany-carved gates of hell. Her eyes like gray bullets molten and shaped in hard cast-iron fire crushed and pressed beneath the silver days of youth.