old medical text, variety of symptoms; says here air is bad.
smooth-talking grifter, with the wiles of a coyote; lives in the mirror.
Light hearted laughter, Poised elegant in her dress; As fierce as they come.
In a flash we’re up, Ready to take on the day; Where are my shoes at?
this isn’t happening, it’s not real no more so than these pages scrawled in times new roman twelve point revealing our lives better than we, locked inside the story; no this can’t be real, i’m standing on the beam- on the path the wheel, it turns page after page in twelve point font; reviled with... Continue Reading →