Thomas Ray

It comes and goes.

Lost in nostalgia.

I wrote this at the worst possible time. Good thing you won't read it.

The first poem I'm posting.

At night, something always feels... Off...

You would think people with the ability to wield near unstoppable powers would rule the world. But when everyone holds that power, things are different.

Abstract puzzling writing, I think. Pretentious insanity

Words on a screen I guess, that came from my mind.

I noticed you looked sad.

Part 2 (possible but extremely unlikely spoilers for The Blade Itself, by Joe Abercrombie.)

The weight of silence, and the fear of giving away too much.

Join me as I compare/analyze two versions of my story.