Safety Building

One of my favorite things to do is explore abandoned ruins. This is part of a lead mine. I don’t know why, but decaying structures reclaimed by nature are perfect inspiration aesthetics to me.


Memories of You

Memories of you
Flickering back to life
I’m fading
Further into despair
My heart burns
Yearning for what we had
Looking backward with
Rose-tinted longing
Where did the time go
Why did we change
How did it all fall apart
I hate myself
Thinking of you
Even though I know
What I’m tortured with
For all eternity
I’m fading
Stuck with this life
Burdened with memories of you

Stan Lee, the Marvel

The man. The myth. The legend.


Yesterday, it snowed in my town. Normally, I despise snow, and even as I texted my husband how horrible it had been to be snowing so soon, I kept finding myself periodically looking out the window. It was so white, a pure blanket covering all it touched. Fluffy pieces of heaven falling from the sky. Down from the wings of the angels.

And the angels came and visited us yesterday.

“You know, my motto is “Excelsior.’ That’s an old word that means ‘upward and onward to greater glory.’ […] Keep moving forward, and if it’s time to go, it’s time. Nothing lasts forever.”

Stan Lee

The snow I hate provided an unusual solace I didn’t know I needed until my husband came home. It was then I learned Stan Lee had been taken from us at the great age of ninety five. It was a day we’ve been expecting for some time, but a day we hate to have lived through. It was a time where we put aside our differentiating ideas on comics, movies, TV shows and stood together, hand in hand, to mourn the loss of our greatest hero.

Even if you’re not a die-hard comic reader or a super nerd who catches all the Easter eggs in the countless movies, there’s a good chance Stan Lee impacted your life in one way or another. The many characters he created/co-created bring hope, wonder, and courage to kids of all ages. He gave us vessels to dream through. He gave us bodies to live vicariously through. Gave us role models and encouragement when the world couldn’t. Showed us heroes could come in all shapes, nationalities, backgrounds, mental capacities, and even planets.

“I don’t think you ever outgrow your love for things that are bigger than life and more colorful than average life. And somehow I feel that these comic book stories are like fairy tales for older people, because they have the same qualities.”

Stan Lee

He didn’t always enjoy comics at first, taking up his first position as merely a temp job just to earn some cash. He even once claimed it was the stupidest job on the face of the planet. But he never denied the love that grew within him. He brought joy through sketches, ink, and text. Demonstrated that someone like alcoholic, self-absorbed Tony Stark could become selfless like patriotic, war veteran Steve Rogers. He warned us that with great power comes great responsibility. And that having a dream is easy, but turning it into a reality where people enjoy said dream is hard. He also taught us to never give up.

We’ve all looked up to a comic book superhero, whether we’ve wanted to admit it or not. We’ve all wanted to be a superhero. Dreamed of having super powers of some kind. We’ve cheered for our favorite heroes, rallied against our most-hated villains, and fallen in love with both. We found ourselves relating to fictional characters who showed us it’s okay to not always end up saving the day.

Stan Lee wasn’t the only pioneer in the comic book industry, but he’s long been a legend. We wanted to believe he would be one of those people who would just stick around forever, but unfortunately, it couldn’t be so. But he will live on. In our hearts, in our cosplays, in his cameos that will never fail to make us tear up. It’s his turn, now. His turn to live vicariously through us.



He Liked the Fall


I wanted to share a sign my late great aunt made for my great-grandpa’s grave. Sorting through old pictures on my phone, I came across this photo. The paraphrasing of Earnest Hemingway reads as follows:

“Best of all, he liked the fall

The leaves yellow on the cottonwoods

Leaves floating on the trout streams

And above the hills the high blue

Windless skies–And now he

Will be a part of them forever”

My Scarred Guardian Angel

Reader Submission: The Trench Coat Man

I have a guardian angel. Although, he’s not exactly divine. He stalks the streets with a charcoal leather trench coat. His long black hair blows behind him with the breeze. The left side of his face hides in the blackness of the void, and a wide-brimmed hat shadows the right side.

He calls upon the darkness and dashes away light with a simple thought. The demons tremble at his name. He can dissolve into obscurity, become a glimmer of the moon. His sense of right and wrong holds blurred lines. But you’ll never hear him lie. He values truth almost as much as he values me.

I am his creator, you see. His heart and his soul. His saving grace. He follows me everywhere, keeps me safe from the evils of this world. For he is evil incarnate. He’s my living shadow, the watcher of my back, my guardian angel.

He’s quick to patience and even quicker to wrath. And when he slides his precious length of chain from around his shoulders, every being knows to flee, lest they become the next victim to the spear head at the end. His true love is pain, and he’s an expert at causing it.

But he never hurts me. Why would he? He’s my protector, after all. I can live my life with confidence.

He has a smile the Devil himself fears.

All I Need is Silence

All I need is silence
The chance to free my mind
The break from the grind
A past life behind

All I need is anger
The release of my rage
The opening of my cage
A terrorizing soul plague

All I need is loneliness
The burning desire to be alone
The memories of what I’ve done
A wrath of an evil clone

All I need is death
The escape of all my pain
The reminder there’s nothing to gain
A constant state of blame

All I need is silence
The noiseless void to call my friend
The darkness creeping in
A haunting of the end