On Muses

"The Edge... there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over." - Hunter S. Thompson A chill washed over him, like icy fingers dancing their way up and down his spine, followed by a sudden emptiness. It was like... Continue Reading →

1060 W Addison

It was a train ride, a journey from sky to earth to sky and back again bound for a tomorrow becoming yesterday and another page in a book that only we would read. It was a day on a rooftop in the wind in April, cheeks rosy and chapped, the sun veiled in grey that... Continue Reading →


...and in the end, there were only echoes of words said and unsaid, things done and undone, and hope left to die all alone; reaching out to a heaven that didn't want me I found a hell that I created and the passing of my soul...

This place I never meant to find, this time I never meant to be in, holds me against my will and I linger longer than a moment in years gone past and lost; it's all I can do to not reach out, to stretch out from the lonely dark with fingers broken and bruised from... Continue Reading →


I wanted to write tonight, to pull from the void an expression of the emptiness in me right now and tell you how I feel, to say something that mattered, that might make a difference, and change this moment for both of us; the problem is... the void is just that, and all I have... Continue Reading →

Of Prometheus

The deepest hours of night pale in comparison to the abyssal depths of the artistic mind--a place where things unsafe and unmeant to be lurk waiting to be given life, shades of the horrors of Man that fortunately find little more than glimpses of life as a sparks extinguished as rapidly as they ignite. And... Continue Reading →

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