i crawl all through myself; tumbling turning trying to get trying trying why is it always so far away. these things that hold on to me are here unwanted. i feel it sting burn twist through my brain, grabbing on a little tighter each time they surface.
TheWriteStuff
a group of people who write things, i hope. we are snippets and thingos and whatsits and fiction and emotion and haikus and stories and conversation quotes and character ideas and whatever strikes us at the moment.
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