For Drusilla
When stirred she howls, vomiting delirium with white foam on her pale poison lips. “Does it matter if you die if you never have been loved?” She giggles as she […]
When stirred she howls, vomiting delirium with white foam on her pale poison lips. “Does it matter if you die if you never have been loved?” She giggles as she […]
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
the woes and dreams of a twenty-something with too many feelings
Now we see through a glass, darkly
A Little Writing Workshop of Horrors.
rejuvenatement - not retirement
words and scribble.
The Quantumverse
Poetry
About fantastical places and other stuff
Sharing my thoughts, poems, travel & art