None of these will make sense, and I don't want them to. This is not poetry, this is me trying to make sense to myself.

i can feel it all begin to fade ﾟ☆ [circa late 2020]

love and loss and language ･:*:･ﾟ☆ no. 1 in poetry june 18, 2019

volcano brain

boyhood, withering beneath a wild sky (#37 in poetry 12/11/17) © vangohs, 2017

things we do for the calm of mind

ᴘᴏᴇᴛʀɪᴇs ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴏɴ ᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛ ᴡᴀʟʟ © summerswylde

days and days

amerika's trial (and her metamorphosis)

a philosophical midnight pilgrimage through elusive facets of feeling & healing