A statement of some kind.

i cant seem to remember how or why.

Fusible ( Read more... )

Though, and quite so defiantly ( Read more... )

to the trope ( Read more... )

It is a clenched fist in which I exist.

Some encased in chests and drawers, some crowded in the cardboard bellies of boxes, others still littering my bedroom floor, literally a thousand or more failed manuscripts are contained within these walls. My mind moves at a pace at once frenetic and palsied. I cannot form a coherent thought.

all that you have is your soul.

Embedded in the forest floor is a cradle ( Read more... )

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