One of my clubs had an open house and a man sat down next to me, asked to borrow a pen and later we connected over writing. Somewhere...

An Ode to Claire   She rubs her eyes Her vision adjusts to the light A gentle wind blows Blades of grass wave and tickle her soul Her...

My mother is not my mother, and neither is my father Captured from my cage, they said I was cute I slipped into their clothes and ate...