Saturday, November 28, 2015

Hidden

We walk
we know not 
where.
Oft breaking into
haphazard
panic stricken
runs.
And at times 
our triumphs 
are nothing but
euphemisms 
for our loneliness. 

Monday, November 23, 2015

Blue-green

For
all the
wrong
reasons
I live
love
write.
And I
sleep
in the
glow of
cheap
fairy lights.

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Chapter 1

I sit pen to paper,
meaning to write.
But no, I've not
yet begun.
I fear that may be
there's just this
one story within me.
So what will I do
when it's done?

Sunday, November 15, 2015

Looped.

I was glad
that like the day,
the road too
stood at its end.
And I fell
to my knees,
my feet weary.
As I lay down,
I cradled my head
in the palm of my hand.
It was quiet.
But as the new day broke
I saw what I had not
in the dark of the night.
That the road had
turned and twisted,
and there I stood,
once again, 
at the very beginning.