It’s November, and I’m cold, and Ohio feels extra lonely tonight.

She does a worn soul good, like campbells chicken soup On a stormy, chilly day pent up all alone In this place we call November, Ohio. She brings back the heat to the center of your body And you can feel it radiate to the tips of your frosty toes Until time flies, until eyes … Continue reading It’s November, and I’m cold, and Ohio feels extra lonely tonight.

The words and opinions of others mean much more to me than my own. It’s why I write and write and write; so I can read about the kind of person I’m growing into. 

I stopped listening to the words on this page, so I can’t really tell when they started to betray me. A lifetime lost in pages, it’s insane to look back and not recognize the person that wrote all of those lines. It’s such a drawn out fall, so gradual a slope that nobody would ever … Continue reading The words and opinions of others mean much more to me than my own. It’s why I write and write and write; so I can read about the kind of person I’m growing into. 

I get to work before the sun is up, and I leave work after it has already set, and I don’t even think I care anymore.

The Sun is only romanticized as setting or rising, yet most of life will be experienced in between. A setting Sun bathes the horizon, outlining the nearby nimbus in blood orange as if stealing inspiration from love gone awry. The rising Sun is a steady blossom, curtailed by early morning commutes and excuses for running … Continue reading I get to work before the sun is up, and I leave work after it has already set, and I don’t even think I care anymore.

I still remember your favorite ice cream, and the way you smelled, and I’m obviously not taking enough pills to melt you away tonight.

I lost track of the time as soon we turned on the TV. The lights and sound just served as background noise; my attention was all yours, and you knew it. We were laying down together on my couch, me the big spoon and you curled up with your head resting on my arm. Your … Continue reading I still remember your favorite ice cream, and the way you smelled, and I’m obviously not taking enough pills to melt you away tonight.

I wasn’t finished living yesterday, so of course I’m not ready for today, and tomorrow is just completely out of the question. And yet…

Tomorrow comes regardless of our desire for a new day. Calendars appear stationary but they are always plotting and scheming, collecting tiny scratch marks and new pictures to entice us into revealing the next month. It’s such a dirty trick, using our love of cute puppies and cats and sexy shirtless firemen to reveal a … Continue reading I wasn’t finished living yesterday, so of course I’m not ready for today, and tomorrow is just completely out of the question. And yet…