Tick

Past, present and future, The holy trinity of time. Every stitched and frayed suture, Bears bittersweet brine. In stillness can you then only find, A soothing voice, gentle and kind; If the present remains a cruel gift, Pay no heed to its burning sting. So just let go and watch it drift, Against the wind,…

The Shame of Stupidity

Once, I was told me that I liked to pretend to know things when I don’t and that I’ve always been, ever since I was kid. I don’t know where it came from but I felt the sting of those words. It wasn’t like a sucker punch or anything. I knew that already. I didn’t…