Day 992, in anticipation. I remember. My hardened nerves turning. When the door opened. In anticipation. Nochrisis Continue reading “Day 992, in anticipation.” → 10/12/2018 0
Day 864, weeds. When butterflies don’t fly. Fading away, overwhelmed in lies. Wings eager, restricted by weeds. Cracked mud of the soil grades the time. When butterflies couldn’t fly. 04/08/2018 0