trees
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In the brightness of midnight,the floorboards creak as silently I hear deliberate whispers beneath my feet; a harbinger of something unseen Internal secrets,breath held tight,the air has a scent, seemingly metallic and bitter,and unspoken fears are gnawing like rats at the edges of the mind What lies in the empty room that people all avoid?… Read more
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my heart is growing teeth sharp and jagged, chewing and gnawing at what was once tender and now the bitterness of years gone by is no better than cold coffee the axe head came to my forest and I was oblivious because the handle was wooden, and I never paid attention to the whispers of… Read more
The Quill of Samantha Grace Newcastle 