you & me I Am No Longer a Hostage of Your Moral Poverty. I no longer spend my days in a delusional dystopia, dizzily dancing in a claustrophobic circus. Now I dance when and with whom I want. Continue Reading
poetry Sometimes I Will Long for Talk at Two A.M.: Ode to the Night Owl. {poetry} Sometimes this stomach is not full, no matter what I’ve eaten. This hollow pit wants a warmth not attained by what I can fill it with. Continue Reading