Scenes, thoughts, plots and no plot whatsoever. Words, words and more words.


You know, you and I, we’re not that different. The days we work to forget, the nights we wander to stay alive. In different patterns, in different styles, yet the desired outcome is the same.

He wasn’t talking to anyone. He was sitting in his room, quietly, looking outside through the window on the other side of the room. Continue reading Morning



As gentle as a breeze

As soft as a feather

Up and down mountains

Make it feel better

With every move a soft tickle comes

Then a warm feeling down the spine runs

Marble remains

Yet ice quickly breaks

As the fire lights up

As it burns in the veins

Crime Scenes

You say you found casings, that a bullet hit your heart.

I know that’s not possible, that it is a lie.

Fact # one is that I still have feelings for you and I don’t want you to die.

Fact # two is that now I feel like a bullet hit me, taking me into the dark.

Or are your facts true? Have I made a mistake?

Is there someone else? If so give me a break!