Perhaps a paradox,
but I have seen roses grew on the ice...
I seek the noise, the light the touch
I seek the company, but not too much...
This grief is told of yonder meadows green
how far - as they appear from crater deep...
Change occurs when "damaged"
is labelled crossed my chest...
They say healing is in the forgetting, so I tear...
It doesn’t take much...
Tearing up paper, playing with paint
that I must do when dealing with certain feelings...
1...
Sheared. His milkflower skin did nothing more than...
Often times I find myself stuck, like a stick in...
And the harder that I fight it, the deeper that...
They tell me.....
I'll be writing her final stanza soon...
Ideas of dying
have long been replaced, all while...
Tell me numbers
mixed with riddles...
It is lonely over here
in a corner dim, with the bar a-brim...