Like a breath of air through alpine green I still see him there I've been healing inside this dream out of focus in life it seems Nobody else for miles around Me and him inside this silence, loud I wake up, see that I'm still bleeding Reality no longer bound So I drift back to … Continue reading Alpine Green
Tag: writer
The First Snow
The tire tracks his car had left upon my drive were still there by morning, I cried at the sight of them as I smoked a morning cigarette and drank my coffee. I didn't feel the morning chill clawing at my dressing gown nor did I acknowledge the pounding in my head as the headache … Continue reading The First Snow
Ryon Maverick 