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His name was Tom. He was the tallest boy in the class and had blond shaggy hair. I didn’t know much about him. He was the boy who played alone during recess. One day I asked if he wanted to play a game with Aaron and me. He said no. I asked what games he liked to play. He only knew how to play board games. We taught him wall ball. It became our traditional recess game. On Valentines Day he told me to meet him after school under the oak tree. He gave me a rose. I ran as fast as I could to show Aaron. He didn’t see what the big deal was; he gave me gifts all the time. When I pointed out that was only on my birthdays or Christmas he

Happy New Year. Here’s a toast to the New Year. Filled with new fears. Accompanied by new peers. Drizzled with new tears. CHEERS Here’s a toast to a new chapter. The unravelling of a new wrapper. A host of new delusions of grandeur. Thousands of statuses lacking grammar. CHEERS Here’s a toast to a new age. Riddled with new battles to engage. New insecure feelings to be conveyed. Accumulating new debts that need to be paid. CHEERS So let us raise our glasses. While we shake our alcohol induced asses. With our dancing shoes battering the carpet. Let’s sit back and watch how quick time passes. With the memories o

From Time To Time. Want to know the value of ten years? Why don’t you try asking a newly divorced couple? And see if they have any wasted tears. Want to know the value of three years? Why don’t you try asking an exhausted graduate? And see if they are ready to start their career. Want to know the value of nine months? Why don’t you try asking a distraught mum? And see if she misses her baby bump. Want to know the value of four weeks? Why don’t try asking someone who has been fired? And see if they like prospect of living on the streets. Want to know the value of an hour? Why don’t you try asking someone wh

A black dragon dozes off on a mountain of gold. The air is thick with tobacco smoke form his hookah. Wings lazily spread across his hoarded treasure. At the base of the mountain the people shiver in fear of the wilder beasts and the dragon, but he pays them no mind as long as they pay their debts. The debts are constant and eternal. A black dragon dozes off on a mountain of gold.

 I slump in my chair, staring at my computer but not seeing anything. She gives a barely audible knock and walks into my room. She sits on my bed and looks at me, trying to read me, as a mother should. “So . . .” she asks carefully, more carefully than she’s ever spoken before. “What do you think about all this?” Drowning, clawing, scratching in the dark Voices without bodies I am screaming, I am bleeding, I cannot think I hate talking about emotions. I hate talking in general. But this is different, this is big, this is something she is genuinely trying to help with. I understand that. I must say somet

Don't play me the fool for naught Whether broken or merely distraught Believe what you say, with your opinion displayed, But for what is it that you have fought? A reason without any rhyme Our souls live within the time Forget the motions, of Love's sweet potions No longer lost or blind. A champion lost in a wood His bravery left for good Think of the gain, not the loss of his name Would you embrace him if you could? Eloquence with a flash of a dare Making ladies stop and stare A poisonous bite with a gigantic might What a devilish pair. The ending of our song We shall leave, and we must be strong. With a wave and a bow, and

Eyes are always said To be windows to the soul Did you try looking?

Grace looked out the window of her mother’s minivan.  The raindrops hit the window hard with a satisfying splat that suited the her mood just fine.  Her dark brows were drawn together in frustration.  She was tired of this game her parents had played the majority of her life.  Her mother glanced quickly over to her and sighed.  Grace knew her mother wanted her to be caught up in the drama, but in reality she was simply bored with it all.  As far as she was concerned, this was their business.  She wished she had never answered the door. “I have to tell you the truth about your father.” her mother had said when she showed up,

I walked up to the woods, the dark, auburn leaves beckoning me towards the woods. When i reached the edge of the woods, I paused for a moment, and looked around. To my left, much to my surprise and curiosity, I noticed a small statue, which, simply put, reminded me of Aragorn from Lord of The Rings, with the cape, long hair, and sword embedded in the ground. Inhaling the crisp, cold air, I looked around my surroundings again, and noticed that despite the hour, with the sun barely penetrating through the leaves, it was dark, and quiet. As I looked at the dry brown leaves blanketing the ground, I looked forward and noticed that the leaves cove

Moira is special, her favourite pastime is observing strangers as they go about their day, everyone looks like a replica. She never speaks loud enough to be heard, she's addicted to the silence. She keeps to herself, no one understands her form of communication. Today is Wednesday at 1:04 PM and she's leaning on a tree, contemplating the crowd. She whispers, "I love you" as she sees a man walking in the bustling streets of New York. Masses of people ignoring one another, trying to get to their destination; a tracing blur. Such commotion and distraction yet she cant stop staring. Everyone rushing in this emphatic environment, and he strolls