No matter how far I go, from shoreline to shoreline, begging refuge from coastguards and strange light towers, I never drift far enough to find an Ocean without at least an ounce of you.

You'll find me in Belgium,  On the coast of the North Sea.  I'll be swaying on the current,  The salty spray of the tide  Running me towards the Strait of Dover.  It bears my essence as it crashes,  A crushing cerulean weight To turn rock into sand,  And sailors dreams into restless sleep.

I'll chalk this latest mistake up to another bad decision made in poor lighting. I'm just happy it happened in Winter, so I have a ready-made excuse to always be wearing long sleeved shirts.

My heart remains silent, fearful of the shadows I’ve swallowed in my attempts to quell my hollow soul. With every beat, that darkness is pulled closer, and I’m left hoping this bottle of pills will be enough to keep the demons at bay, or else I’ll need to wash them all away in a rush … Continue reading I'll chalk this latest mistake up to another bad decision made in poor lighting. I'm just happy it happened in Winter, so I have a ready-made excuse to always be wearing long sleeved shirts.

The long weekend has finally come, 4 straight days with no work, and I couldn’t be any more of a piece of shit than I am right now.

Is the light from my window beginning to reach my eyes? No, that’s the artificial light from the lamp beside my bed. Should that make such a difference in how I start my day? I would like to be greeted by something a little more comforting than this light that is a lie. It shouldn’t … Continue reading The long weekend has finally come, 4 straight days with no work, and I couldn’t be any more of a piece of shit than I am right now.