eliseven
I'm tempted to break a brick. Hit it on the pavement and run real quick. Hop over a fence and grab a stick, just so I can make you feel at home with it.
Curious if it ever really gets better. They say it does but how many of them are me? How many know what I've seen? But that curiosity, that tiny question in the back of my head that wonders if maybe, just maybe it does...
My bookshelf holds my heart, and those things that I heart most: books; which hold what I heart even more: words. And words are the conduit, the expression of my innermost vulnerabilities and triumphs, and protectors and purveyors of the landscape of my soul. (Though I also totally think more books should punctuate their sentences with the word 'fuck'...sometimes it's the only word that matters.
Alumni. Everyone is an alumnus of something. Today? I'm an alumnus of wakefulness. No sleep for the wicked, I guess.
writing since 2011 · 4 entries · 4 days shown up
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heartalumnusbookswordswordalumniwakefulnesssleepwickedguessbookshelfholdsholdconduitexpressioninnermost