Poetry · Writing

yellow feet

in the valley of the fallen

we have no eyes

bound by moon and leaves

we leave our mortal feet

in the valley we fall in

our souls take flight

mirror of a feat

you show before you leave

we are the valley of the fallen

song of yellow

scared moths of the flames

a thunderous bark

n will call again

in fellow yellow

Poetry · Writing

faulty timing

shape up or she’ll be gone

listen up, if you were a man

you’d know what’s going on at home

“your” home- nothing but a coward

nothing is what roams these halls

calls to you in the night

reads to you in the dark-

it’s frosty in this bed

our bed

the one we share

just never at the same time