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Category Archives: On Depression
You who bore the tattoo, who bore the blood, who carried the mark, who carried the light. You who could not lay down because the quest was not yet finished. You who held the lightning; you who sang the void. … Continue reading
The pattern of a breakfix life is simple: Wait. Watch. Wait. Watch. Wait. See. Flinch. React. Panic. Flail – and in flailing, possibly hit the broken thing and render it useful again, or so un-useful as to be replaced. Lather. … Continue reading
Rising sick a tide of anxious bees pollinating worry inside me like a field of roses surrounding the tower a buzzing reaching for the bottom of my tongue like it will not let me make words only a scream that’s … Continue reading
These aren’t my thoughts and dreams. I catalog a list of sins and hopes in blood that isn’t mine, spilled ink to paint every page of my life. They scream through me and I cannot harness, cannot tame, cannot rein … Continue reading