first person.
what do you give the
woman who has everything?
mostly grief , it seems.
reading my writes.
feel like writing today. feel like taking the day off and lying in the sun and stringing words together till they say exactly what i mean them to. feel like telling all the stories that run around half-clothed in my head like street urchins.
while it’s lovely to be a writer, it can be terrifying to [...]
