The shrinking

It's just under my pink paper skin.The deep, dark sadness that comes from a year of waiting. Holding. Staying. Everything a wash of blurred grey;the clearness of lines, gone. Facessunken from lack of color, eyes downcast, limbs treading water like dogs nearly swept under a current of chaos. I am small. Sinking into myself morewith... Continue Reading →

This creator, ain’t creating

The world stopped, and so did that section of my soul that has to throw itself into written words. The writing. The poems. The scribbles in the notebook. (Ok, a few words written at the screen in panic/devastation/frustration. So much so, I forgot I even wrote them. But that was it.) It all just froze... Continue Reading →

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