6.

I don’t want to live in the world anymore and that doesn’t mean that I want to kill myself; not all the time. I am unhappy; I want to cease being, but I don’t want to die.

5.

I don’t look for the stamps that you like to use anymore when I check the mailbox and I don’t get up fifteen minutes early to make sure that I have time to stop; not anymore.

4.

In the aftermath of hurricane you, I find myself out in the woods trying to escape the sound of your laughter and the last words that you ever said to me. I can’t remember what they were now or what you sound like saying my name in the dark. We’ve become strangers with memories of...

3.

It is too quiet for the village; this silence reserved for trees and stars, but it has found its way here and it seems like the world should have stopped like it does around a campfire, but one bridge away life goes on and we’re just expected to act as though everything is normal.

2.

The wind whipped through for less than 10 minutes and yet the devastation left behind was unlike anything that we’ve seen and we’re still picking up the pieces of a world torn asunder.

1.

The first of April isn’t unlike the first of November; filled with the potential of a new beginning and longing for thousands of words that tell a story of everything and nothing - any opportunity to stop the buzzing that rattles my rib cage.

Stained-Glass Window

I am filled with all of the emotions that we have words to describe and at the same time - I am empty. There are a million words rattling around inside my chest and begging for the page, but as I look for them now they act as though they cannot hear my call. I...

V. Scars That Tell Stories

Maybe you didn’t notice or perhaps, you chose not to, but if you look closely enough in the right light then you can see the battlefield of the war I’ve been fighting with my own existence and how close I’ve come to winning a dozen or more times, but pulled back at the last moment.

Finding Myself in the Forest

The scents of Spring are laced through the wind that keeps trying to blow Winter back into these trees, but they stand barrier to the advance and I am here as much as I am ever anywhere with ink stained fingers and words to empty. This place has been destroyed and rebuilt so many times,...

IV. Becoming Someone New

I wake up in the morning and before I open my eyes I imagine waking upin another town, hundreds of miles away from here,having disappeared into the night without warning,not leaving a note behind for anyone to find,shutting off my phone, deleting all traces of my existence from the internet;I have become someone else far...