gennamillar
Fried eggs are disgusting; sickly yellow, turgid orange, melting pot of unfertilised foetus. What could have been?
Binding me together, my house, my garden, my inner being all constricting my soul. What drama. What nuance. What boredom. How twisted this all is.
writing since 2012 · 3 entries · 2 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Genna showed up.
1longest streak
2days written
4.2entries / week
the words Genna reaches for
bindingsoulcontracthousegardenwholeinterwoventhemslevesperspiringfitragevengeancehomepeacefulhappynurturing