there is mold growing behind the mirror I look in every morning,
so with a great crash you allowed it to fall. no longer is death allowed to live in hidden spaces, no longer will a falsely clean reflection mask what lies behind, it is time for the real to be exposed, made known, let die. it is time for something new. Comments are closed.
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AuthorI write to process. I write to explore. I write with the hope of sharing truth greater than my own. Archives
February 2022
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