18 years old


  • God

    As children we are taught God was the big man in the sky

    He who watches over, tall and overbearing

    Thorns stapled to his head and bleeding, he was resurrected for us

  • He Who Watches

    A branch hangs low pulled lower by a decorated box 

    Inlaid with blue and red faded by the elements the box hangs 

    It floats strung up with ever so thin twine 

  • Lights Up

    A person gone within thin air

    A colorful soul who was granted a short guarantee 

    A person

    A being

    You spoke to me

    To many others 

  • Her Morning

    The spark of a lighter ignites her morning

    Her pipe lies resting on her lips

    It is a deep brownish purple color tattered with flecks of dark ash

  • Blueberry Harvest

    I want to pick blueberries with my mom again

    Sunlight warming my cheeks

    Her gentle hands touching me 

    Tasting the sweetness of both the fruit and her words


  • 1893

    It was just a fluke that I happened to see

    The ghost of a girl in 1893

    I didn't think much of her, tried to ignore

    But then she came 'round in 1894

    A spirit was not something that I had wanted

  • My Childhood Home

    My childhood home is filled with plants,

    plants that we never water

    but are somehow still alive.

    Its island is littered with junk mail,

    different types of olive oil,

    stray flakes of salt,