Joe Straynge is Dead
I was creating something so this skin could move through the world like a phantom. Something that would protect me as I hid beneath the surface of whatever I’ve become.
Depression Bagel
Sadness is inherent to every seed. When the flowers come, they'll be for graves or grace. No one knows.
Let the Bad Times Roll
... there is nothing more cruel than spending an eternity subjected to never-ending positivity.
On Autopilot
The half-written page in front of my eyes turns to black and mocks me like a childhood bully who knows just the right pairing of words to scar me for an entire summer.
On Becoming the Myth
I took a pickaxe to the wall of the well and climbed out, slowly, to find the voice I always had but never listened to.
On Cherishing Solitude
As my heart continued to drum, my mind slowly went to a place where I became uncomfortable in my skin.
