As long as I have breath
My love will lift you up
In many colors I’ll be
your melody in life.
Surround you with
love’s vibrations
To sing and dance on the tune
of life.


Shell ✨🐚

I stay awake
Thinking of one
While another sleeps

Longing to feel wanted
Wishing to be held once more
Wanting to remember
What it ment to be safe

I lay awake
Unable to sleep
Creating false realities
Just to help me feel

Perhaps another level
Or another page
Might help in this
Long night ahead

Edgar Alan Poe is dead. Seriously, I read it.
He died in October 1849 - or did he?
Do we really know?

Poe wrote about death a lot,
he teased with it, it was his favorite tool.
He kept death close and twisted it like a knife.

His profession was the macabre, the shadow,
the summoned dread and the gruesome aftermath.

He was a writer and a critic - what’s more dreadful than a critic?

They say he died from “unknown causes”
- how absolutely perfect.