I'm dying for a metamorphosis...
And who says you must wait until time's nearly up to learn how to scream//to learn how to breathe//or to learn how to notice the air around your lungs
I'll gather them all in a crumpled pile and watch as they writhe and convulse beneath the flame. Suddenly, they are gone. It's tragic that I can't do the same.
I try not to be a Debbie Downer too much, but this site often ends up being my mind-dump, word vomit therapy. Yesterday, I was in the worst of sorts, but remembered that great writers become great by writing constantly, so I wrote two posts but did not publish them because they were so sad/disheartening/not... Continue Reading →