Fluffy and soft,

cloudy softness drifts.

Colors paint the sky,

morning blush or evening gift.

I see a dragon in the blue,

wings stretched wide, its breath brand-new.

A fleeting tale the heavens write,

a story fading into night.

Scales of shadow, black and blue,

tiles that gleam where sunlight grew.

It soars through clouds with sweeping might,

swooping low, then out of sight.

At midnight’s edge...

Pain and aching, from all over. Thunder and lightning, all through my body. Aching back, tearing muscles, breaking bones, cracking knuckles. Bed so soft, so comforting, I sink, I drift, no sudden moving. Laying down so soft, so still, gentle rest against the will.

...

Whispers and tales,

when no one’s around.

Secrets no one but you have found.

People hear but they don’t see,

they see you but they don’t see me.

Look at you talking,

talking like no one has a clue.

But I hear every silent pin drop

on the cold, hard ground too.

No one even turns around,

but the girl they all talk about.

You act as if she isn’t a person,

as if she has no feelings, no purpose—j...

Fire and burn,

tingle and pain,

on your arm,

down your leg.

Pain, oh pain,

that doesn’t go away—

growing pains

that never fade.

But this isn’t about the body,

not the ache in skin or bone.

This is pain inside the brain,

the kind that lingers,

that stays unknown.

You might feel it physically,

but that’s not what I mean.

It’s the pain no one speaks of—

the one that hides

down deep, unseen.

...

Pretty thread,

for the pretty new wed.

Pretty gown that reached the ground,

so elegant, so beautiful as the girl.

The pretty girl who wore the gown,

the pretty girl with boys all around.

She has what she wants in life,

without a doubt.

The beautiful gown that flowed and bowed,

that touched the ground without a sound.

The elegant gown that swept the ground,

that drew the eyes of men around.

Bu...

Rotting flowers can still smell sweet,

Though their beauty looks discreet.

Petals shrivel, stems may weep,

Roots entangled, buried deep.

Yet rotting flowers still smell sweet,

So long as they’re not six feet beneath.

...

Little details, here and there.

Small conversations stuck in the air.

Late night talks and laughs—

you remembered all of that.

Little details about me

no one knows—

you remember.

You remembered,

remembered how I write.

No one else does,

only you.

You remember how I hate certain things.

But the story doesn’t end there,

because now all I know is you’re slipping away.

Taking all my secrets, love, ...

Hardwooded Obsession

Scrub, scrub, scrub—

all I ever do is scrub this blood.

I hate the mess, the splatter,

but God, I love

the moment their light flickers out,

the final gasp,

the desperate fight,

a knife sinking in deep.

Love doesn’t do it for me.

Not anymore.

But her—

oh, her I might.

Still, I can’t have her close,

not with my hands this red,

not with these floors so hard to clean.

I can’t...

Forest floor wet, damp, cold. She was trapped in this forest because she thought she could summon something from her spell book. The book lay flat on the ground while she hid, unsure of what—or who—she had actually called forth.

A heavy thud echoed behind her, freezing her in place. She didn’t breathe, didn’t even dare to move. The beast was getting closer. She didn’t know how she could feel it, ...

You move along

the roaring river’s edge,

water churning in wild swishes.

Each step echoes in the rush.

From the corner of your eye—

a figure.

Perched by the bank,

half-swallowed by shadow,

watching.

Silent.

Unmoving.

Mysterious.

or

You wander on beside the tide,

where roaring waters twist and glide.

The river swells with foaming might,

its silver waves all flashing white.

Then from the corn...