I was cleaning out the office and stumbled upon this poem I wrote–probably a couple years ago? I like it still, so I typed it up here.


Strike the match
to feel the warmth.
No thought.
No chance.
No flicker.
No dance.

And nothing.

Try again
Won’t give up.
Hope for flame
Play the game.

A spark flies–

It dies. 

And nothing.

No more chances, no more turns,
Why won’t the fire burn?

Strike three.


The fire–it warms
The fire–it soothes
The fire–it burns.

Keep it burning, burning, burning
Stop the yearning.

Beads of sweat
Engulfs the body
Not dead yet.

Flames swirl ’round
Desire found
Combination combusts
Explosion erupts

It rips and ruptures
Tortures and touches
Voice is head

Without a word.

Eyes require 
Single desire–


Just burn. fire

Welcome to my site!

“A person is a fool to become a writer. His only compensation is absolute freedom. He has no master except his own soul, and that, I am sure, is why he does it.” ― Roald Dahl.
I’ve been writing my whole life. I know nothing more, nothing different. My earliest writing memory was a poem that I wrote in the sixth grade, “The Story.” I knew at 13 years old that I loved to write, and I haven’t stopped writing since. Currently I write for blogs, for businesses, for professionals, and for my own soul. My passion is my pleasure, and I love the written word. Thank you for stopping by my site and for taking a tour of my small little world. I hope that you find all that you never knew you needed. Read More About Me

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