(Another) 3am (poem)

3am comes to those who wish for something more. Something¬† different. A different shade of mauve sunset tears over a rainy coastline after an unnaturally gray Oregon afternoon. After an unnaturally gray Oregon morning. Like repetition. Like uniform. Like perpetual. 3am comes at all hours of the day. Waiting for the bus. Checking Facebook on…

The Leap

I hate the fact that I am constantly writing some memoir-ish personal diatribe bullshit, but between school, work and a desperate need to distract myself from the world on the rare occasion that I can, I have only been able to write when inspired. But what the hell, right? Today I spent the day seeing…