Sometimes the only way to ever find yourself is to get completely lost.

I have yet to be completely submerged in reality, for drowning in the sky.

…and the smoke that creeps off the tip of my cigarette and into the dim, scattered strands of light leaking off the moon, in through the clefts in the curtains, is much like my spirit...

Sometimes you have to put yourself in other people’s shoes to really understand the hardships of their souls.

Life is like a steering wheel, it only takes one small move to change your entire direction.

I love how summer just wraps it’s arms around you like a warm blanket.

You are alone”Rose colored memories drown,taking their last breath.

I am but a firefly caught in his jar and when he looks at me, I can’t help but glow.

No matter what, we have to keep moving forward, even if we have to crawl.

If we change our thoughts from ‘it’s too late’ to, ‘there’s still hope’, we might see some change in the world.

That dip in the road- that sends your belly to your throat… that’s how it feels when you kiss me.

Maybe Heaven will be a library and then I might get to finish my ‘to-read’ list.

What a more beautiful world this would be if we didn’t wait til people were dead before we honored their spirit.

The pen to a writer is like a cigarette to a smoker; they need it to take the edge off.

Social media has infected the world with a sickening virus called vanity.

Hold love like a butterfly, with gentle preservation. Hold life like the reigns of a wild stallion, with fierce assertion. Encompass that, and you find the nectar of the immortal spirit.

Some of the best memories are made in flip flops.

When YOU stop believing one person in the world cannot make a difference; differences in the world will be made.

I miss your face. That big bright smile. You always had it, in any weather. It’s hard for me to find one these days. These cold November days. Except when I think of you.

It’s summer and time for wandering…

This town of churches and dreams; this town I thought I would lose myself in, with its backward ways and winding roads leading to nowhere; but, I found myself instead. -Magic in the Backyard (excerpt...

I firmly disbelieve in death. A spirit never dies. Where it wanders when it leaves the flesh, is a cognitive proposition.

…what happens when you returnand find nothingbut a hollowed shell,shingles and floor,walls and echoesand the light that lead you herehas now burned outand the ones who built ithave traveled afarand you cant go to them,no...

Oh, those warm days of stumbling words; blinded eyes, embracing in sweet slow dances and sipping courage from a bottle for sneaking kisses.

…and I laugh and I spin and dance and frolic in ecstasy and I… I hurt no more, while you…you petrified little man, are left to wonder if it’s you I speak of.

The train blows, just when I was forgetting. Forgetting that I am here alone. And I wonder if those cars got held up by its passing, just as I have yours.

Poetry will die when love and pain cease to exist.

Watch me go. Watch me. Because you said i couldn’t. Because you thought I wouldn’t. Go on, cry now. Cry.

I don’t want someone to believe my lies, I need someone to accept my truths.

Maybe Heaven will be a library. Then I will be able to finish my to-read list.

Sing me a love song in a slow, southern drawl to the tune of sunny days…

Winter is much like unrequited love; cold and merciless.

You’re surrounded by people and voices and noises, but there you are, alone and trembling inside. And you want to be invisible. (thinking) Please, don’t notice me.

…and should I die in her care, I would leave smiling because, I will linger in the hills beside her…

Resting on the roots of this old oak I lean back against his knotted trunk, shine my granny smith on my sleeve And ponder the days…

How mighty you are as death comes upon you and your color fades. Yet from life and lush to bold array, screaming into the night.

It…whatever ‘it’ is, has swallowed me and I lie here in the pit of its cold dark stomach being eaten alive by its bile and I…I don’t even know if I want to be saved.

Love is the castle, doubt is the moat, desire is the paddle and hope is the boat.