My face isn't carved in a mountain. I've never been struck by lightning. I've never saved a crying baby from a burning house fire nor have I over come my misfortunes in life to acquire a name for myself. I consider myself a writer although all I've written is only pieces of torn limbs of my distraught existence. Everything is a poem to me, it's my shorthand.
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Friday, February 26, 2016
Saturday, February 20, 2016
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Friday, February 12, 2016
Monday, February 8, 2016
Friday, February 5, 2016
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
Monday, February 1, 2016
Thursday, January 28, 2016