Who’s whose lifeline?


Her insecurities no longer lay dormant. The tea bag steeped and floated to the surface. She gathers the herd within her fence which she built stud by stud. All dressed in layers and knee high boots to kick the shit aside. Hearts bought in disregard. Everyone loves the Queenbee, yet fear her sting.  

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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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