Annualment


It’s not often, in fact it seems to be our annual holiday party. Many pink faces gather and indulge in the spiked punch. I am precarious about tipsy strangers and common bed fellows. I guard my corner and hide out of respect. Somehow, they always find me and my invasion of your privacy thwarted upon me. My unicycle is less bulky than their tricycle.

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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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