Whitewash


I will limit my distance. I will pretend to not see her in the crowd filled room. I will lose myself in the music. She will pretend to watch. As always, I am a mere fixture on the wall. It will annoy her, my crooked edge. She will not make it right. She will simply turn away as many times before.

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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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