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Forlorn

A clump of leftover rags, Abandoned and alone Used and discarded, Left on its own. Once they were valued, Almost beyond compare Beautiful and pristine, Shiny against her hair But now they are faded With time and despair No more will gazes linger, Now that she doesn’t care Their purpose yet lingers Useful, perhaps, to…
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Unexpectedly stormy

It’s the little things. The quiet things. The things one can pass by, and never see. Until the time the quiet things become loud, Roaring for attention. They were so simple, so peaceful until neglected. Suddenly what was so quiet and calm has turned into a funnel of destruction, and one can only hold on.…
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Time warp

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Cozy

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Adrift

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Aftermath

December 26th. The day after the ribbons and bows have been swept away and the leftovers nearly stacked in containers in the fridge. Like any big event, the aftermath is sometimes uncomfortable. I have a proclivity for introspection, and find myself wondering why the feeling of a balloon bursting so often follows the build up…
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December 25th

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Communal space

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Journey Home


