I’m tired. It spreads through me like ice, Like fire. From the tips of my fingers to the  Odd, Strange numbness At the tip of my nose. And on nights like this I want to stop. Curl up in bed, and sleep. But a voice persists, in the back of my mind. “You’ve been through … Continue reading Grit →

If you don't grow, you die.

Just a scratch.

world-war-woe weary; heavy with life

tongues of flickering flame that devour the darkened blue-veined ebony wood