Maybe we drown.
Maybe we live.
I’m always kind of on fire.
There’s something inside that wants out.
Something that eats away at the necessary parts-
Something that buries itself inside the darker corners.
I don’t know if it will ever be the same.
I don’t know if I want it to be different.
There’s a crack in my voice
A tone in my touch.
I don’t know if I can hold this down.
Writer and photographer from remote Labrador, Canada. Just another cold Labradorian chillin' in the Big Land. Can most likely be found walking my dog Grace or behind an iMac screen slowly taking over the interwebs.