Who am I, but a speck of dust in a universe so unknown?

In another life, maybe.

Count your blessings. [Warning: child abuse]

A found poem made of random lines from random odes

On February 17th, 2018, I went to the tailor. Presented in the view of my little sister.

A little rant about social issues.

Life doesn't die in darkness, it is merely reborn.

A short acrostic poem with a perverse twist.