The dance


We lacked communication. Honestly, I lacked communicating. My perception became my reality. I tried to meet her in the middle.  She needed her freedom to do as she pleased and that she did. She never lied, although she danced around the truth. Wrong place, wrong time. If only I had listened to my gut and not my stupid heart.

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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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