in between

I’ve been wondering lately about the phrase “pocket of time”. It first came up in a book, and then in a conversation, and now I cannot seem to get it out of my head. I think it is…

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my heart is red

My heart is red over the grass that settles between my two homes and the blood on the streets. My heart is red over the thought of my friends and the walk through Main Street. I hear the…

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different

Soft rays peek into the room, melting streaks of gold onto the wooden floor. Here, it is quiet, and it is safe. All the thoughts of yesterday and all the thoughts of tomorrow collide. Who I am, here and…

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