My heart is slowly breaking the cracks formed over time, are spreading ever faster with each passing day of bad luck, and missing friends, of bad people, and sorry news. And chipping away at the seams

Despair. Despair for the world is dead. Its dark and cold. Every breath gone with the shallow gasps of dying men-- which fill the stygian sky and despair, for we are all doomed and cursed a blight upon

My mum would have said I'm a girl prone to 'situations" She'd have commented on how Trouble could find me a world away. And she wouldn't have even been wrong. I'm a wanderer-- an explorer and adventurous

I want to shake the dew drops from my bare feet after a long night of tangling with shadows and following fireflies. After dark hours of quick advances and the even faster retreats, of those rustling night

Put putty on the cracks my facade is breaking. Smooth out the ridges, stretch back the lips, in grimace or smile-- just make it stick. Layer it on if you must, the putty, the paint-- put it all in place,

I dont even know why we're together, if you find my body so distasteful. I dont even know why I like someone as unkind, as selfish, as money hungry as you. How you can look at my naked body, stretched

Hammer straight and hammer true; Close tighter this coffins lid, for the pounding resounds, it echoes of goodbyes-- and from within its confines I shudder. It was summer yestereve, when autumn drew its

We are enslaved by Freedom. Our once blind voyages now mapped, planned out. If Liberty did ring, it'd be lost in a cacophony of ringtones and though the fires of Rebels still burn it is rebellious in its

Stay your hand awhile and let her eyes wander for a time over days and through seasons during the changing tides and moon phases and see her eyes alight with joy or pain or humor or with all feelings not

Let me make a nest in the quiet reaches of your mind and silently I'll stay laying seeds of doubt. I'll leave no mess, no trace-- but for a whisper of breath; a shadowed depth. Let my fingers gently, ruffle

When I Die If I should die, cover me not with stone. Instead, make a tree my graven throne. Each breath it sighs will be as my own. Its rustling leaves my gentle tone and continue singing when I am gone.

Its a sad thing to admit, but we've never gotten along, my youngest brother and I. Nor, would I say, that we haven't NOT particularly gotten along either. We are, at our hearts the awkward black sheep'

War Never Changes For all the world has turned to blame and wars upon forgotten graves-- Marching toward claimed borders Share not what, cannot be given and govern all, with fist and farce a forgotten

I've only recently gotten into the stock market and crypto, after quitting my crap factory job, I'm kind of hinging on it and my savings XD. I recently started up my own photography business, which I'd