In our house lived three men with one name, and all three fought or ran.They lie like stones and dare not shift. Even asleep, everyone

Last night, I became the man of the housewhite beater cupping my kneeshand me down hems rested upon exposed wood floors.Appearance altered- the mirror glass

Glass door chimed, my eyeslocked upon it’s beautiful.Stars within a stone; who knew?A sister of your flesh— glistening.3,225 dollars. I wore the good jeans, remember?White

Drowning beneath a sea of linen,thick folds and body heat.Perfectly in the spotlightof the street lampon the opposing side of a four sidedbarrier with a

Nothing compares to the world after midnight. A strange placewhere humans and rejected thoughtsroam to prey upon those who fight slumber A quiet place.A place where quiet

Concrete cracks within its foundationas time passes and lesionsbecome mundane.Forged from a tightly tethered blend,yet fragile as wet feathers whenadversity strikes hard.Dyed, stained,drenched in summer’s

Rain fell in perfect sequence this July.Opening my mind to breathe init’s blissful scent, cradling me awayin thoughts of change.Change—for a better day, a better

Wind chimes taped againstthe beautiful brown chipped woodframe that housedtermite families whocraved the idea ofrevenge, revenge;revenge for the fallen, squashedsoldiers, brothers, and familyin life that

I’m not sore. I’m not sore. I’m sore. I’m not sore. I’m not sore.I’m not sore. I’M SORE. I’m sore. I’m not sore. I’m not

Brightest nights produce the darkest moons.Brisk airs tear through the 4 legged stare.Algid spaces where the best seeds bloomforbearing the release of all its despair.

Freshman year of collegeI was introduced Tinder;she left me too.Girls that would be my second choicehave boyfriends too. The girl I loved sophomore yearin high