Mad Pollyanna poetDepressedIn love with the night,Admirer of the stars,Constellations, and galaxies,The milky white wayAgainst the raven blackEchoes […]


Its so strange to think
That you’re not there
In that little house on Salem Avenue
Sitting on the couch
Quietly reading fantasy novels on your Kindle
While Dad watches NCIS,
As if you’d always been there
And always would,
While I sit here across the mountains
Hunched over a notebook
Writing til my hand cramps
Trying to make sense of it all.