My feet grow cold and numb 

as my hands begin to tingle.

My lips are bloodied and cracked, 

dry as a mid-summer heat. 

Your strong hands wrapped

around my opaque neck,

cutting off my only air supply.




Dragons Fire

Dragon fire unloads
upon the tiny wooden homes.
Villagers scream as their limbs
melt away like candles.
The smell of incinerated corpses 
fills the nostrils of those still alive.
Children wiping salty droplets
off of their flushed cheeks
as they watch the world burn
in front of their pale faces.

A Single Death

I keep running away, feet kicking up the dirt on the cold ground beneath me,

hair bouncing and chest heaving, raspy breaths escape past my lips


A car slams into my frail body,

crushing every bone and living fiber inside of my vessel

My legs and arms turn limp as I inhale my final breath,

blood dripping from every fresh wound and crevice

No longer am I able to speak,

although my mouth is agape,

hanging open while spit dangles off of my bottom lip

Before my eyes, a blinding, golden orb shines brightly,

a womanly voice is calling my name with such vitality and grace

My body is no longer numb, every wound is healed without a trace of bloodstain or trauma

Death approaches me,

clad in a black gown with a shimmery glare,

reaching out to me with open arms, inviting me in

I run towards her dark figure, launching my body into her arms as she drapes her

arms around me, clutching me to her body in a embrace



A young girl lies away in the dead of night. Her breathing hitched, whimpering a bit from loneliness. The darkness strikes panic into her heart and she begins to worry. What if there was a monster under her bed? What if there was a monster in her closet? Tears swell up in her eyes as she pictures the grotesque creatures. Ones with sharp claws and fangs, ones who are skinless with piercing black eyes, ones who are physically contorted with twitching limbs, and ones who are hungry for flesh. Tears slip down her cheeks as she begins to softly call out for her mother. Her legs begin to furiously kick at her sheets, but she is quickly put to a halt as she feels a pair of hands grasp onto her legs. They pin her legs down and the elongated fingers scrape their nails along her pale legs. The young girl attempts to scream out for help, but another hand creeps along her face, clamping down on her lips.


He asked for my phone number. He asked for my address. He asked if I loved him. He told me he loved me. He doesn’t know me, but he wants to know me. He follows close behind when I walk home from work. I can feel him staring at my legs covered with fishnet tights. He always asks me questions, not caring if they make me uncomfortable. A friend request on FaceBook? Declined. 

I lie awake in my bed. I can almost feel his gaze peering over me. The thought of his disgusting, calloused hands tracing my thighs makes me cringe. I know how he feels about me. He wants to do dirty acts with me, and he wouldn’t care if I refused. I want him to stop. I don’t want to see him ever again. I want him dead.

The Teddy Bear

A lonely child cries to his teddy bear. He has no one to confide in, no one to entrust his faith in. The teddy bear listens, and although it cannot reply, the boy still exposes his feelings to it. The boy wails loud enough to annoy his parents, loud enough to make them cringe. Such a pest. His parents want him to be silent, they do not wish to hear him. They do not care about his foolish, petty, and minuscule troubles. The boy knows this, he knows his parents view his emotions as a pathetic matter, that his parents see him as a burden, but the teddy bear does not. The teddy bear does not yell at him, the teddy bear does not physically abuse him for taking a cookie without asking, the teddy bear listens to his screams for help.