I dream I can end it, losing the fight —
slip into my wings, fly into the light —
and burn as I cry to the angels below
that I wear the last heart you’ll ever know.
About Catastrophe Jones
Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
