…it’s much less stressful to tie a string around that spotlight and tug a little to make sure you never quite leave its warmth.
…sharp teeth of an angel.
I write what I feel, and I let it go.
There is mad, mad joy to be found.
This can’t bode well, can it?
Living in my head, it’s not such a bad thing.
I’d love to make you smile now but it’s not the state I’m in.
I’m a fixer, but I can’t fix this.
I wonder, every day.
Hope is that thing we chase down with all of our might. Sometimes we catch it, and sometimes it leaves us sitting on the curb, wheezing and saying, “Screw it, I’m going for ice cream.”