Death. Irony. Life.

I become more comfortable with the idea of death, the more I live a life – that I consider to be – worth dying for. Funny how that works. – J

Terminally Ill

I was inspired to write the following poem during an¬†unfortunately-eventful visit to a Houston, Texas airport. Three things to know about this day: I was severely depressed, I’m terrified of dying in an airplane, a man collapses into a stroke, on the floor of Terminal D… On their way to die. On their way to … Continue reading

Giddy Girls Dying

Giddy girls on a train, and no one’s happy. Taking trips on a plane, and no one’s happy. Making love in the rain; wearing lipstick in vain, and no one’s happy. Where do we go from here? Back and forth and round and round, Big hearts beating black and broken down. Can you hear that … Continue reading