Nothing happened. Maybe it did. Who knows?
I have everything one could only dream of.
Being around him is like standing under a cloud raining acid.
Why does it feel like Emilian’s constantly reading my mind?
I am a clean sheet of paper, inside and out. What I think will be written and carried out.
New poetry, published in Spillwords Press.
I have to tell you something…
I screamed so loud, for years…
It’s eight and my heart plummets. Am I nervous? That never happens…
I’ve had enough of these traditions already. Maybe.
She looks like an exotic mermaid wading through turquoise.
I feel my sunflower move closer to me, gripping my shoulder. I think it’s afraid… Because I am.
Someone was watching. She knew.
We touch each other’s hands as we reach for the papers.
After Timothy left my place to catch his flight to the District, I dig out the note Emilian gave me from my backpack.
Some dreams I don’t understand.
It was like I walked into her light and felt this immense harmony deep down. Everything was in balance.
Moldable metal magic shell.
With his usual murderous glare, Emilian watches me approach.