I am to be Allergic To my Art.


I am to be Allergic To my Art.
Doubt inside anxiety was eating yes away And then it was guilt Deciding tomorrow As today.

All the years that you have given me, And I will miss the most The years that will not happen, […]

Is there an inhale, Of a nerve That can conjure, Me anew My memory?

You need to go, And so will I.

Why do they ask When talking Means to really Breathe.

A step within Those eyes Was Their Aftermath And mine Too.

Hello Mischief Family! Threadless.com has invited me to open a beta art shop with them and it is now officially […]

And if I was your bandage, Elastic to your every cut. What if I was made The turnequet, So you […]

The horse will not, Always be in the stable And I do not have The adjectives yet, But ask me […]