My sleep isn’t so much a lack thereof, but a world of nightmares that makes nothing feel like real rest. Every wall is a mirror, and my whole body is covered in bright red scars, and everyone I’ve ever known is watching me and walking by and offering help, offering hands and tissue paper and … Continue reading I’ve grown accustomed to my own lack of patience, pushing aside the reality of my short temper by hiding behind a mountain of excuses, like my insufficient sleep schedule or my diet of razor blades and a nightly bottle of pills. But let’s break that down to it’s pieces, shall we?
I’ve been here before; That point where my wrist twists at the touch of pen to paper. My body yearns for a release into words, For that is the only time I’ve ever felt..whole. Yet, once before, this very same stutter did occur. I was falling, drowning, every other analogy for dead on my feet. … Continue reading If I was never aiming to accomplish anything, then by definition I couldn’t fail, right? I guess logic isn’t one of my strong suits.