Too tired
to write
Too hungover
to fight
This life
Hangs by a small thread
And at the end of it
Fly’s me
The kite
The life
Flowing
with the wind
And when
that breeze ends
Or the thread snaps
So do I
But while alive
I’d like to see
how high
I can fly.
-C.H.
I close my eyes And she comes to see me My mermaid sage appears On my ceiling A swirling green mist follows her She waves at me to follow her I shake my head “No,” I say “I am comfortable here.” She s
She told me that she had been sober for 6 months before Thanksgiving with her family. Apparently she got blackout drunk. “Understandable,” I said. “My family is the reason I drink so much around the h
A few years ago, there was rattling noise coming from one of the wheels on my car. I took it into the shop, and a man handed me a bunch of bolts and nuts, and things that I had no idea what they were.
