My writing

Little red boats

The dramatic return of the one and only… Continue reading

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My writing

314

One. Two. Three. Hundred, Fourteen. All that makes up me, All that I can see to be to want to scream. Oh… but what I could be, As delicate fragments of me fall at your feet. Grinding teeth in mouth. Tapping foot in shoe. Of anger the hungry gleaming from every piece of me to … Continue reading