Words..

Writing, these words as they flow.. Writing, whatever comes and that somehow lifts me up.. Words.. Dear words.. How do you work so magically on me? How do you flow? making me express what's inside.. Dear words.. Do you also listen to me as I write? Or are you really lifeless? Words.. on the paper..…

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Turning myself into a tiny flower

Another day again, feelin' sick of everything around, third day in a row of crying, screaming in my mind, crying hard and letting it all out... Yet.. Doesn't seem to go away.. And can't figure out why and what in particular is making me sad with grief.. Is it the anger in mom's voice? Is…