Apple Blossoms
White Knuckle
I let my eyes unfocus and blur at the sides... As I numbly follow familiar white road lines. Soon my face flushes and I tighten my grip... As I wonder what would happen if I let the steering wheel slip.
Crabapple
B&W
Under the Maple Tree
Glitter
As soon as my palm opened... Our glitter became dust. Now everything that sparkles... I know can combust.
Fogged
Serenity
I remember a morning when you were still here... You were sitting with a cigarette while chasing a beer. You were watching the rain pour through the porch screen... Looking so lost, yet so damn serene.
Purposeful Survival
Sometimes I feel like life
is just some sick joke on all of us.
The purpose of humanity is to do one thing right?
We’re supposed to survive.
Yet here we are…
spending our entire fucking lives trying to do everything and anything
we can to make it to another day…
still knowing that we will eventually die.
But besides just surviving for however long we have…
I feel like everyone has a desire to leave some sort of mark
on this planet.
Maybe it’s children, relationships, ideas, music, art or just something miniscule
the next generation might have a use for or remember… anything at all.
And I don’t know about you,
but I have this deep desire to leave something behind
for this world after I’m gone…
to make my own mark.
I just worry that I won’t have enough time
to figure out what that mark is before I’m gone…
Cold Hand
That moment you walk into your patient's room and she's visibly dead... And the granddaughter who is holding her hand looks at you and mouths "help me" through tears... And you realize that she's been holding her dead grandma's cold hand for twenty minutes while the rest of her family chats in the corner... Because she just didn't know how to tell them.
AO Poetry 
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