Writing

What good is being filled with water when all you do is drown?

and we’re anchored here on Saturday’s lost island shoulder over shoulder arm over frozen arm and I don’t know how love will so..

there’s a mouldy peach in a bowl I see him dressed in clinging light his wrinkled jeans in small piles strewn from chair to floor and th..

Her hands clutch a steering wheel she talks of how nervous she is to go to a place with people she doesn’t know how her confidence fails..

Written while in the ICU. I was given permission to leave for a few hours, and I took a train to the coast.

a bit of confessional poetry, not necessarily autobiographical nor an exposé

Tags confessional