When I bury my own needs and my own feelings to try to keep the peace I am left feeling like a ghost.

Mealy-mouthed sub-optimal consumer Filled with a black bile tar heart Feathers fringed tinged dark with fear Red and Green with envy All...

Self-control asleep at the wheel Buried in the kind of task That carries only a sick appeal Back to sleep At arms length Never withheld...

Deimos and Phobos I can barely breathe Suffocating in Quicksand Underneath my skin Sundered secrets caught in throats Fires burning under...