February 2010
January 2010
"Murder"
His body seems miles away while the summer air stands still at the window, afraid. The distance keeps us warm, reminding us of what we’ve lost in the tangles of sheets and heart aches. The tears sting, but I hardly feel them as they dance down my cheek and onto your pillow. The walls know my pain and the power outlets look like little faces, screaming at me to stop. Stop. Stop torturing...
“Either write something worth reading,
or do something worth writing.”
– Ben Franklin
“Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.”
– Unknown
