The fire inched toward me before I could feel its heat. By the time it reached me, I was numb to it and unaware I was being burned.
So now - a key-strike compresses into the clacky-plastic slab, and now - the dust leaps from my heart as it begins to ba-bum.
And are not hard lines the very things that define form, else I be undisciplined splashes of ambiguity and not my current self
I've been lulled into a false sense of purpose Where nothing seems too urgent Rendering me wordless I used to fear the bump in the night Now I'm afraid if I don't wake up That'd be alright I tried to be the monster The bump under the bed But I'm just in your head Life is... Continue Reading →
We do our best to live our very best life, but mayhaps our best life is the afterlife, and mayhaps that was the mystery grasped by the world long ago.
It is sometimes no wonder whatsoever that my breath is bated and my words spared