Long after our black departure,consumed by earth,despite dreams of an immortal memory,we’ll all be forgotten.She has a poetic journal in her keeping,immortalizing her words.An archive of Gothic poetry,holding her inner most desiresof adventure, sex, love and expressionism.Metaphors possessing such...

As I remember, I learn to forgetthe buoyant memories that linger.When I am foundering, I resurface,only to drown in the world’s stigma.As masking as the calm, glassy sheetsegregating this pond of thought is,this curtain between dreamsand the world has...

"Would you like to go dancing?" He asked. Of course I would. It was 1985. Who doesn't like to go dancing?! I loved to dance but I haven't been to a club for years. The last time was after...