
time had no place within the confines of these walls – they were not filled with dust or bones, nor were they filled with thoughts that i could call my own, for i…

An envelope sealed with a wax kiss. My lips; the letter; in fear of themselves. The year of sprinting backward, in motion of memory’s death. She no longer had the gift; taken from…

Nothing like tomorrow; you dream it’s another but nothing seems quite too desolate. Incompletely seeing the punishment beneath your skin- you have no idea the consequences that enter my bones. The bones autotomy…