Times Old Roman

I write when

I’m sad,

or angry,

or anxious,

or alone.

I hope I find someone

that makes me feel

like not writing.

Mystery

To the stranger sitting by the window With a glass of whiskey on the table. Eyes staring out into limbo A black […]

Huddled close, branches buzz Gnarled grandmothers gossiping Wrinkled roots intertwine.

I cannot smell – for all aromas have ceased without your smoke and cinnamon scent. I cannot taste – for the food […]

Comfy sheets and blankets galore underneath the window sill, I cannot await you furthermore I just left you and still – I […]

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎@athacadia ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎