a spooky short story

We knew the old house contained mysteries. Of course, these two young boys knew more than I did. I was just along for the ride. Did they know what was in that house?

When we heard the noises, we ran. Closed ourselves into a room and laid flat on the ground. Like we were dead. The panic in the boy’s voice as he screamed at us not to move was the only warning I had.

I laid on the floor and watched. It came slowly at first, then all at once. Long, gnarled fingers stretched under the door, feeling. Grey and slender like decomposing twigs. The fingers extended under the door and arms stretched over my body, moving up my feet, my, legs, my arms. Feeling for movement and bringing terror at every touch. I tried to stay still, but my hyperventilating breaths caught in my throat as I tried to suppress them. The knobby fingers felt around my throat, closing in. There was no way to hide my rocketing pulse. Like a switch had been flipped, the fingers suddenly tightened and the hands of that faceless monster strangled my last breath.

Or they would have, if I had not remembered this was a dream. I woke with my heart pounding, immediately knowing I was safe. It was just a dream.

Monsters aren’t real.


my love

my love for you
like fire, is poison
consuming to the end

my love for you
like death, is eternal
burning through the end



i feel like i am drowning but maybe that is just life

in the deepest ocean and on the longest road

i am sinking, i am running, i am reeling


why don’t they love me like i love them

i need them to hold me but they are not here

they never were and that is so like me


there is a woman who lives inside me

she says she loves me and her name is rose

i don’t know how to find her most of the time

but she suggests that I should be a little more kind



i always thought i was kind

i thought i was so many things

but lately, i think of me and i think of nothing


when i am like this

i don’t look people in the eye

i am afraid of what they might see

i am afraid they will see what i see



there is a certain beauty in sadness

at least there is something there to look at

something to hide behind

when you can’t hide behind a lie


two poems


 ​london you got me thinkin

i already know ya

but you don't know me

and i don't know you

even though i see your people on the green

what does it really mean... anything?

 for all your parks

and all your roses

what do you have to show

but for your masses of gray

transporting, mowing through the jungle

concrete in the main



There are no words coming

No words to fill that hole

They are gone like a skeleton

Crashing to the floor

 A bone crawls

See it in the darkness

It is the littlest of bones

A finger perhaps

 It crawls across the floor, skriitch-skraatch


Trying to make purchase on the wood

Grasping for others, an answer, a word

 Skriiitch, it comes to a stop with one hollow tap

And then silence engulfs it, no words surround it

No words ever come, gone with the bones

A skeleton that just can't take form