I write, therefore I am

I would hit the brakes as hard as I could, is what I told myself. . . .

I've been waiting for the cold to show up for so long I couldn't stand the heat, the humid, and the bugs But the winter has taken the leaves from my tree It stole from the branches, the twigs, and the shrubs I try to grasp at the rot that is left, But the…

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there lived a merchant in a small village.

The bells toll again, Rhythmically, painfully, melodically, corrosively Chipping away at my cranium, Bit by bit by - bitten; I'm being bitten straight through my veins The hours tick by like seconds, Slowly, rapidly, effortlessly, aggressively Slipping out

Temporal wings, no wonder they say time flies Am I forgetful?

The lady on the sun had a man on the moon. . .

The man on the moon had a wife on the sun. . .

I've rested my head on this tree for so long, it's started to grow around me.

The saturation felt as if drained from the world that night, as I looked onwards at the gloom-stricken trees and started my trek across the gravel path lit faintly by the hazy, dim moonlight.

Blink.