16 years old


  • The Trees

    The first thing you notice is the wind. 

    The bitterly cold air hits you like the back of a hand 

    Reminding you of the approach of a desolate winter

  • Piggy Bank

    I cannot hurt this little pig
    With pleading eyes so large and round
    Which beg of me to step away
    And place my hammer on the ground.

    My skinny arms are all worn out.
    I slightly sway from side to side,