Posted on

Titanic


It hurts like a son of a bitch. Perfect wreckage sunk and no longer found. Artifacts don’t float. Many fish in the deep blue. Look around you.

Unknown's avatar

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

Categories Dear DiaryLeave a comment

Leave a comment