Do not compare a sleeping city to a whispering room. The murmurs are nails against chalkboard in the underwater-like silence of the quiet...

Have you always been there Or did you one day choose on your own to peek from the crevices of the lighted tunnel To become my guardian...

I remember racing through the sun-kissed park when our little bodies only stood at three feet. Your hand would drape through mine and be...

I am not me Something that I’ve come to see is that I am but a voice reflected to the physical being before me Sometimes I’m seen but...

Which is worse, an internal pain or an external? Would it be more excruciating to have the skin upon your skeleton burned away within a...