Ideas

It came to me. In the dead of night. These little ideas. Snippets, rather. Not fully formed. Words that long to be written. The darkness wants to be expressed. My scars want to share their story. The desire to express it. Ideas on how. It all came to me. And the path is illuminated. That…

Advertisements

A Cold Bed

My bed is cold. Always cold.  Every night I dread crawling into it. It is unforgiving. When I prepare myself for bed, I find myself procrastinating actually going to bed. As I bind my hair and remove my makeup, I imagine what it would be like if it wasn't so cold. If I could curl…