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.
Wednesday, February 13, 2019
Sunday, February 10, 2019
Wednesday, February 6, 2019
Wednesday, January 16, 2019
Wednesday, January 9, 2019
Tuesday, January 1, 2019
Saturday, December 22, 2018
Thursday, December 20, 2018
Wednesday, December 19, 2018
Tuesday, December 18, 2018
Sunday, December 16, 2018