We’re all a tragic story waiting to be written, assuming someone’s so inspired.
A peach pit wastedunder leaves of naked treesas sweater fuzz flies This post was made possible by Ronovan Writes.
I witness reflections of life off oceans I often fly by. Zone out at the greatest depths, though marvel most creatures calcified. Pumpkin patches now serve snow cones which help me forget warming woes. But plants adrift across the sea... Continue Reading →
Sirens resounding, 2 AM a bottle breaks. Locks are checked again.