First attempt flow writing.. "I don't remember the last time I felt unconditional love. I don't remember the smell of comfort or the feel of cold hands hugging me. I miss silence, I miss hiding. I want to stop, I don't know what to write. My hand aches with every letter. Why did I give up using a pen? Technology came in and anyone I had to write to left. Whens the last time I bought a stamp? I need a change, I need to change. More like transform. What would I be if I could be anything? A plant? A bug? A piece of furniture? Alone? Happy? Dead isn't something that popped in til the end and for that I am grateful. My brain is rearranging and moving, dragging me slowly up to the top, to the surface where I might get some air. It's suffocating down here but I find the lack of oxygen comforting. Spins my head in a way that males me forget and melt"
















