Paper and Drawers

These tattered sheets are more than blank pages, more than white space or drawer-filling junk. They are possibility, potential. They are opportunities for release and chances for existence to blossom with a scratch of this pen. Sheets bound by threads of metal spiraling up their spines, they are stories waiting to be told and poems […]

The Ballad of The Boy Who Played the World

In the days when the lands were dark And orange moons circled above, There was a boy who carried the mark Of music and of love. His bones were formed from melodies That floated on his skin. His fingers held a remedy Made from strings and pen. But his ears fell deafly on the sounds […]