Aching Silence
It’s black — this lack of words; a void… too cold. I only hear myself reflected darkly between each heartbeat; caesurae of the muted nights. It’s black — this lack […]
It’s black — this lack of words; a void… too cold. I only hear myself reflected darkly between each heartbeat; caesurae of the muted nights. It’s black — this lack […]
It’s not the wail of wind, not this scent of sweat, it’s not from lack of light but in the subtle weight of these words unstitched. To be linked to […]
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
the woes and dreams of a twenty-something with too many feelings
Now we see through a glass, darkly
A Little Writing Workshop of Horrors.
rejuvenatement - not retirement
words and scribble.
The Quantumverse
Poetry
About fantastical places and other stuff
Sharing my thoughts, poems, travel & art