I’m so damn angry, at the way things have turned out, at the poison that just came out of my mouth. At the words that just flew could I tell you they had a mind of their own? I can’t because you’re positive I’m made of stone. That everything...
It is seven in the morning, and everything is falling apart. She sits at the glass table and examines her feet through the floor, coffee cup in hand, slowly circling the remnants of the morning through her mind as they swill before her back and forth. Her hands don’t...
She looks out the window to cold hard skies that scrape the ceiling of the world and fade into the early morning. The fog has dusted over and everything seems shrouded in a wetness that chills you to the bone but when she sticks her hand out to feel the rain there is...
It would seem that we have arrived at an impasse. Us, you and me, stuttering along through this thing that we are meant to call “us” but somehow feels more like a you and a me and some sticky tape that is pulling at our skin uncomfortably. We have been re-glued so...
Are we there yet? In the good place? Are we in that place that sits well with us, where we are finally comfortable and no longer squirming to find places in tight spaces in crowded rooms. Where we are no longer trying to keep everything together with our bare hands,...
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