A combined archive of poetry, short stories and observations. All compiled in one place for your reading pleasure. A warning, they do include vents.

*sprinkles glitter all over you* well, that there is some guaranteed black girl magic

Tristan is sick of his life, his demise is inevitable. However, something stops him from truly moving on and offers him a second chance at the mistakes he made. (Note, if any of my story affects you, message me right away)

Can a life truly have meaning if it is entirely composed of watching the lives of others?