It was a twisted game to play.

Do I wish that this was true, I must be crazy for dreaming such a dream, and it is at these times that I fully understand her reasoning. We All Fall Down… broken hearts, giving in to our sin, or even death; a straight line in the direction of down.

Just a short poem about loving the sun.

There is a fine line between love and hate.

You forgot what happiness was.

Everybody hides who they really are sometimes.

Heartline.

My little fish that I thought that I had caught was gone and this reality vanished with me.

How do you sever your every connection.

An amusing poem about a fellow who cuts in line.