The night sky wraps around my
being, as if it was a blanket I’ve
known my entire life. The crisp
air reminds me of memories gone by, and brings hope for the memories to be. But what I love most fondly of the night is the stars, for their multitude remind me that I am nothing, while at the same time
inspiring me to be something.

To Whom It May Concern


You can call us dirt,
but flowers grow
from even the
darkest of soils.
So water us with
words of rain, it’ll
only feed the seed
within, causing us to
bloom towards the
sun. You could try to
pick us, but our roots
will grow deeper
than the wounds
that you’ve caused.