Fickle, a new poem.

There’s something about a glass of wine (or a bottle) along with a sweaty workout that gets the blood flowing. And blood flowing leads to writing, writing, writing. ———————— You were the lie I told myself, The truth I made myself believe. My careless mind let down its guard To a heart that would deceive.…

My Reflection (a poem)

Recent inspiration results in a lot of new poetry. I’m not sharing the majority of it (yet), but I will try to post a few here and there. Here’s one that I wrote (with a dry erase marker on the bathroom mirror) this morning. It’s unedited and weak, but I don’t plan to revisit it…