At the end of the rainbow…


there is no pot of gold. Reality is vulgar. It cuts to the bone. Insecurities felt deep. Jealousy, envy, anger surfaces in subtle gestures. We all bleed red and now it is internal. Unicorns are magical and deceiving. Stand your ground it’s about to crumble.

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Published by: her mourning coffee

Walking a fine line between genius and insanity. My words are raw, sometimes visceral, and vulgar.  I write to settle my thoughts.  I have triggers that extract emotional immaturity, deep- rooted fears, anger, insecurity, vulnerability, yet I heal with every stroke of the pen.  I might be that monster.  I sometimes scare myself.  Please keep this in mind as you read.  I do not wish to provoke you, though stories need to be told. *not all posts are in real time

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