The city, with its squat buildings and crowded greenery, was quiet. A great fear had gripped the landscape, the living things, the buildings, and the earth itself. The air was still, the constant tropical wind over the island had temporarily abated. It was the peak of summer, and unusual for the warm winds to hold their breath.

In this article, I will share with you some of the cringiest boomer bait I’ve ever seen. I apologize in advance.

…it will continue to make headlines as a show that panders to conservatives, or MAGA as everyone calls them nowadays. And it will be a successful show because of this, it’s high time conservatives had a show they could flock to that tells them they’re right. They have been waiting for it.

And still, we are confused

when a loved one dies — 

as though we didn’t ask, first,

to know.

My sincerest apologies,

I forgot how much

it hurts when the air you breathe,

it burns, and the way you see

it’s worse.

My most earnest regrets,

I didn’t know you’re

hiding, I didn’t see you

crying, I didn’t believe you could be

lying.

Sweet, sweet separation

between river

and her rock, pen

and her paper, tree

and her leaves, night

and her starlight, such

sweet, sweet distinction.

Rather, those silver-bar

sand dunes gleam white,

under those stars that

never set over black

I’m not going to tell you ten reasons to start a blog, or how “easy” it is and how “essential” it is to build an audience online, or anything like that.

I’m actually seriously asking, why start a blog? Why post anything online at all?

¹⁵They are the living dead, they swim in the Styx under a silver moon,¹⁶they ceased crying long ago, they are the Gray.

But, I know depression. The cold, hard truth of it has given me empathy. I sincerely believe that everyone, even assholes, are doing the best they can. I know I’m not the only one carrying an invisible weight. Everyone suffers. Everyone.

Our reflections in

mirrors, the taste

of water,

our breath, our

fingers counted

in fives.

Right now, and

forever, for

the first time.

The brown rain soiled

under a rusted sky,

rainbows in puddles’ oil.

The elements enchained, we’re

swallowed up in steel beasts.

“Five Horror Stories: Tales of Mystery, Misery, and the Macabre. A Collection” is now available on the kindle store, where it will be free for 5 days. I used Kindle Direct Publishing to make it.

It was so much fun to write and compose, I’m super excited for its launch (It’s already doing quite well, and I’m thrilled).

100 followers may seem like a small goal, but it has taken me many months and I’m very grateful to have reached it.

My one goal was to be able to create and self-publish my book with only free tools and methods. No outsourcing the work or paying for nifty software.

I already had the original drafts of the content (30 poems) published here on Medium, so I thought I could quickly assemble the work into a .doc file and publish it as an ebook.

On deaf tempest

and wild fire

my muted plea

fell, merely more

for the pyre.

I watched a boy chase a butterfly.

It was getting dark and hard to see — 

He was far from home and lost his way

when the butterfly landed in my tea.