the air is heavy
like a piece of wet cheesecloth over my face
it hampers my breath
my heart is heavy
like a clogged swimming pool pump
it doesn’t want to move the blood through the chambers
and back out again
I tap my finger on my forehead
1…2…3 times
3 more times
somehow I think this might stop the tears
that spring from my eyes
but I’m wrong
some days nothing stops them
because the loneliness penetrates too deeply
and nothing seems right with the world
Still histrionic, still a bookwhore; just faking competence because of my kid.
i've choked on my words for far too long
It's not the length of life, but the depth.
A great WordPress.com site
Where Sarcasm Gets Drunk and Let's Its Hair Down
Shining the light of truth on delusion
Researching, investigating, and writing about the paranormal.
You either get it... or you don't.
Inky blackness, a yawning void ~
oh what's the point.
"Eye Fly High"
A weekly series edited by Jena Schwartz
My business is generally pleasurable.
Read. Ingest the words. Like little blue pills, they will affect you.
the stories behind the pictures, and vice versa
Just my thoughts for all to behold
FOR DISCERNING READERS
🍃 Fully Living The Unfinished Things Of Life Through Writings. 🍃
A baking and dessert blog.
Writer, Dark Humorist, Novelist
a little bit of this and a little bit of that
Seeking Beauty Beyond the Scars
The home of Emma O'Brien
The musings of a scorpion who would have been an eagle
