august 14, 2013
"i don't understand why you feel sorry for me when i cry myself to sleep."
she said.
"eventually it gets so bad that i feel numb. then everything's alright."
YOU ARE READING
Speed of Sound
Poetry"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit at a typewriter and bleed." a collection of capricious drabbles. © Valarie Rae, two thousand and thirteen.
