Black Wings

black angel girl

She claimed she was an angel
straight from the white gates
pure and divine.
She said she was immaculate, perfect
and sent from the heavens above.

Sure it sounded great in her mind,
as for reality she sported
a black heart
withered wings and
a halo she borrowed from another

with no plan of returning.

Free Fall

fall color change

We change our minds
like the seasons
and try to forget
the lives of our past.
Fall makes us forget
how far we’ve fallen
and how far we’ve gone.

As orange and browns,
inevitably wither away
and leave you behind
in a pile of nothing.

Remember to embrace your fall
and change with the seasons

Fogged Mirror

writing in mirror

Behind self-conscious translucency
the word sees me through blind eyes,
but I want the world to see me
like the smoke in my mirror.

In my mirror
I’m a blank face,
no name,
no identity.

I can draw in condensation
and create my own images of everything
I want them to see me as
and everything
I want to be

On Thin Ice

I decided to “remix” one of my older poems and turn it into something new. Here is the link to my old poem On the Edge… check out my 2.0 version below!




They just don’t know,
what it’s like
standing on edge,
fighting for survival
living each day
without no one reason to go on

it’s easy being human,
for they own the word,
as they say.
But me, I’m just an enemy, hiding in mountains of snow,
fighting each day just to see tomorrow’s sunrise.

On this block of ice
is where I get away.
The excitement, and danger of
peering into the unknown
and venturing off on my own
gives me a rush, one I often desire.
Hunters won’t find me here
neither will my cubs,
and it’s what I need. Sometime I wish that I
could float down a stream, get washed up on an island
and never come back.

Please get me away
from the snow,
and into the sun.
I want to be on my own,
and feel what it’s feel like
to be to be warm:
on both the inside and out

Grey Scale



He lives in black and white,
dreams in vivid color,
believes beauty is a myth and existence is a curse.

He knows there is good,
but it’s submerged in darkness
as it’s just lost looking for light.

Good is like a firefly in the night,
stuck in a well
so far down,
so far away
it’s just flicker in the distance. Nobody cares
that good has gone missing except for when its dark
and there’s no one to guide them.

Yeah, that’s when they will care.
The moment they finally realize;
no one likes to live in colors of black and white

Strangers on the Subway

Across from each other they’re apart,
two different worlds,
two different stories
and two different paths.

For what brings
them together in
this exact moment, this exact time and
this exact point of their lives
is any ones guess.

Is it fate? Luck? Destiny?
or maybe it’s nothing,
just nothing at all.

But what if told you
they were perfect for each other
but he was too nervous and
she was too shy.
As he got up to leave,
he wanted to say Hi
but it was his stop so he left and
the two never saw each other again