Aftereffect

A vent and a complaint

The Ballad of the Nightstand

A short ballad, crafted while I have a cold.

Breathless

The air leaves our lungs trapped in our throats breathless and gasping our movements automatic we know we are dying as darkness dances in our eyes our drumbeat heart demanding that we slow that we calm the air leaves our lungs as tension blocks its return the mind’s cruel trick over our bodies - Caroline … Continue reading Breathless