Rifling Through the Years

After spending a very long, while also too short, weekend with several remarkable writers, poets, musicians and alcohol enthusiasts, I find myself filled with trepidation. It's a small crime, but I have no defense. I am sure I took more from the weekend than any of them may ever realize.

Am I Losing You, or Are You Lost

I woke and you were no longer there. The faint sound of turmoil lingering throughout the air. Mistakes made in weakness. Anger created in haste. Life without ever really living. Love without ever giving. I have let you go only to find that you were never really there. Always, you were lost. Always...