Coldness coiled tightly

Deeper than deep.

Shivering into vacant space

Lost on the edge

Wrapped in lies

Wrapped in truths.

What to do?

Warmth flees the body

Shards of ice

Poke, prod, tear.

Surrendering to it

This internal winter

Not an option.

The Soul’s a spirit

Willing to slip.

Can’t let it.

What to do?


Sleep for now.

Mind and Soul

It’s bitter.
It’s caring.
It shred souls,
And woos hearts.
It fills one with
To claim,
To maim,
To fight,
And cause pain.
It makes one
To the glory of another,
To the passionate touch,
That ignites tempting fires.
It builds our
To stumble,
To be stronger,
And take what is our’s.
It is human.
It is animal.
It is all.
Let it claim you,
Mind and Soul.
You can’t be a good writer without being a good thinker. This is a depressing thought for a writer. ~ Andy Rooney