Breadcrumbs:

I gave away my razor"My tools"

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The path from my brain to my hart is jumbled and interpreted by the dead soul from the fuck fest of my childhood. I am hungry for numbness
the rawness of my systems of feelings are uncontrolably swiriling in there box behind the wall of my concrete. Crumbling it's about to crack
I find myself franticly mixing mortor to repair the chuncks as they fall away. I am behind and I have given away my tools. a regrettable decision I feel I have made. Fear surges throughout my body. Knowing what awaits me I am working in vain without my tools. i am afraid this sucks. My hin brain has been naturally sadated while my frontal lob continues without rest

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The Author

amymay31 Creativity - Other Written Work published by 2 years ago ()

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