There are words to pick upstuck to the cement she grabs a fewplacing them within her pocket the words twist and tare through the shirtstraight through the navelmaking their way through she lets out a wince as the words cultivate searching as they swim upwardwhere is the boss of this placethey search tunneling themselves upContinue reading “There are words to pick up.”
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.
Temperamentally Tina 