July 2010
freewrite from workshop today
You speak to mirrors to hear the answers you want. You, my ziplock of death smelling like fresh jungles gyms in the rain voice of floorboards creeping at midnight I can hear the sound of your victim’s corpses rustling in your closet I know we all got skeletons.
but I wonder, did you want me to be the ghost of your first love? thinking if you fold your emotions and tuck them in drawers of...
June 2010
I am the martyr of infernos and liars.
Go ahead, burn me.