November. It is nowhere near me now. November is circling back around though. It moves along confidently, in an evil orbit, content to slowly circumnavigate it’s way back to me. Floating overhead like a bloodlusting scavenger bird. Feathers that are oily with the stench of black. A sickly, satisfied bird, pleased with itself and a […]
I wish she was holding my hand right now. I cannot escape her memories.
In the chasm between insomnia and heartbreak lie the devil and this website.