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Tag: Personal

“Dear Life”

The first thing I noticed was that I was sad. The second thing I noticed was that I was sick. The third thing I noticed was that I was funny.


But here I am, 28 years old standing before the opening doors of closeted memories. Memories worse than my nightmares, worse than what I had thought I escaped. Memories I thought I killed and buried have been dug out of their graves.

Short Story: Room 7

He’d done this all before. He’d talk to the girls and boys, fathers and mothers. He’d get what he could and he’d eat them up. Like I said, he wasn’t a person and he was not human. He was something else. It was something much simpler than that

Poem: Maybe Later

The crack in the walls made me visible again
In disbelief of it all, he was there

The lights were on, the camera rolling
You held it right where I was