Mourning dove lost in the hearth Died warmly in another's arms
House of Horrors
Hall of mirrors Marble hands reach out
Ash to Dust
Ash to ash Dust to dust
Tear-stained Pillow
The worst thoughts are those you cannot escape
Depression
I have always described depression As a sea, an undercurrent, tide
A Monster’s Home
Where the monsters roam Matters not as they will always go home
The Look in His Eyes
My veins transform to ice As I turn to face you
So Called Coping
I am not ashamed But I bite my tongue
Plain Sight
Not meant as an insult But it still hurts
Hallow Home
all alone in this hallow home
Fragment of a Figment 