Holding Hands

She held his hand quietly Her mind a still pond Minnows swimming quickly beneath the surface Mouth stayed closed Breath shallow and slow   She listened while she held his hand Absorbing word after word He spoke quickly She slowed the minnows Concentrate. Listen.   She welcomed his words while holding his hand They observe

An Almost-Haiku

The desire for complete and utter control is futile Focusing on my own life and powers frees my anxious heart Controlling myself is the only way to make my own mark Sketching out contours through self-evidence invigorates me Influence may not exist, but truths are interesting things Carving out my world one piece at a

Meticulous Me

I’ve been told many times throughout my 19 years of life that I am an incredibly meticulous person. On the outside, this seems to be a flattering compliment, but, I am the only one who knows the backstory; from my perspective, being meticulous is a curse. After I got out of depression, I felt like

End of the World

This poem speaks for itself.  Prince Ea makes the listener aware of several pitfalls that we, as a people, have fallen victim to.  We have polluted the natural environment, making it unlivable for some animal species.  We have become dependent upon medication and technology.  We have allowed discrimination based on race and religion to exist.