- Member since March 25, 2006.
- I have 49 comments, 155 poems, 14 stories
My Stories
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The razor-sharp blade sped towards the clear expanse of skin before it. The clean metal dove through layers of skin, flesh, muscle, and tendon AS smoothely as
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When Michael was little, he was mostly neglected by his mother, who was always on heroine or cocaine or whatever drug she could afford that day. Her 'boyfriends' (if you
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Danny was a little boy, about 9 or 10. He wore socks with holes, ripped jeans, no shoes, and a black felt hat several sizes too large. Although he knew his own name
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My Poetry
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I pretend I'm improving
but I'm just a better liar -
The harder I push it away,
the happier I try to be, -
I spread out my hands and reach for you,
but you dissolve like a mirage
