Sometimes I think of death,
not in a morbid way, but it’s
almost as if I daydream about
what it will feel like to be only
a memory, an image trapped
in a photograph tucked in a
wallet, or maybe under a pillow.

Desires.

Written in Nov., 2009, to a small living thing.

This describes my look on what seems so scary on fate.

A haiku.

How do you spend your time here on Earth? Do you think you’re spending it the right way; and spending it for the right purposes?

Even if you forget to water your flowers they repay you in many ways.

Here’s a little poem/song for you all. Can you find it’s true meaning?

How are flower and beauty the same? They both glow, but not forever.

My First Truth I knew about myself from the get go.