Sometimes, I feel like I am twine up by someone or something unfamiliar, like I’m six feet under a constricted membrane of well-built grief. Something inside of me shatters, like a laugh of a happy soul of somekind wanting it’s escape.
Sometimes, I feel like I am twine up by someone or something unfamiliar, like I’m six feet under a constricted membrane of well-built grief. Something inside of me shatters, like a laugh of a happy soul of somekind wanting it’s escape.
