This is the dream I had every night while I was in therapy.

No mercy was shown that day.

I piece I wrote a little while ago, for School.

A poem.

My really good friend, Sara Crispell passed away on September 13th. She was in a car accident about a month before she passed. In my opinion, this angel passed way to young, but God needed her more then we did. Rest in Peace Sara. 21 is just to young.

A dreadful poem.

Never forget who you really are.

This is one of my many poems from my book, "Versus From The Hollow Grounds". It is titled buried and is about waking up in a coffin and not knowing if I am dead or alive, or maybe even stuck in between…

A little story about a grave-robber…

A poem of adventure and darkness.