Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
On a warm summer evening in 2008, my mother asked me why I hadn’t killed myself yet. We were on a bridge just around the corner from home, on the enigmatically named Wigley Bush Lane, staring down together at the A12. I was twenty-four years old. I had completed my Read more
moss clings to branches like whispers feather hope thirty, forty feet up? far enough to cramp the neck yellow-green & tinged with blue airy & light in the warming breeze teasing about the season just now gone delicious to the eye but to the skin gives a scratch nothing soft Read more
I can become easily pissed sometimes, but today I’m juggling just feeling pissed with wanting to slam every man I see into a frigging wall, smashing his head. If only I had the strength. But I don’t. I’m a fragile little woman, you know—that weaker sex, not strong enough. Of Read more