We can’t joke about the terribleabout the taboowhich meanswhen a head rollsI must tear upas I clean it upI must feel italways at every moment when their feetstink upbeneath the floorboards I have to take out the nails and dispose of the smell and when the airhas a sense of rotI have to clean theContinue reading “We don’t laugh.”
I’m prone to bouts of anger, short tempered, the overly sensitive type. Writing is a way to make sense of it all. While art is a way in which I can escape the thoughts that haunt me shutting off conscious thought and allowing my hands to guide me.
