Phases of the Moon
Dark, morbid, quiet calm. The forest stands ahead in a smattering of dark greens and browns. Melting into one another; a looming skyline backlit by the waxing moon. The treetops above melting with the moon, yet there is no light streaming onto the...
Guilt
Poem
Wonder
Sometimes, I wonder Would things be different? If I acted "gayer" Sometimes, I ponder Would things change? If I wore my sexuality louder Sometimes, I think Would I feel less lonely? If everyone knew, with one look Sometimes, I...
Confused
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Sick
Poem
Soft
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Message
Poem