Norms
Bad days. Chaos polluting my air. Anxiety restricting my common sense. I am hoping for the better, fighting to prevent
Every Moment is a Story
Bad days. Chaos polluting my air. Anxiety restricting my common sense. I am hoping for the better, fighting to prevent
Sanity is slipping — an urge to be unseen — wishes cast into an empty well
Defining moments scratched along the surface of unblemished tissue. Each pockmark flowed like printed stories etched since the beginning of time