For the most part, I spend my days asking myself
why do people have so much interest...
When we missed you,
we used to sing...
Where did you go,
that you could not find...
Delicate strands of life she weaves
symmetrical shape of beauty deceives...
Cliffhanger
Teetering on the edge...
Come run with me across this wild and stormy land...
and leave behind all memory of cages and of...
Thousands of hours over many years
we have planned and plotted our journey...
She was a midnight catastrophe;
her need to spin upon the pond...
You didn't know me,
As your teary eyes search mine...
There were no children in his home.
Only vessels...
This poem is fictional -
I did not slice through my heart...
Outcast
When the event comes, my death...