These are my stories and my thoughts and the what-elses and the whatever-the-hells that may feather into my girl brains.
This is my narrow type grace. This is my ineloquence with a keyboard and computer screen. This is all the sorrow in my fingertips… the fear and hesitation in my hands. This is all the love and joy in my skin.
These are my words, they all look the same.
These are my words, they all look the same.
These stories roll
From my palms
From my palms
And everything
I‘ll never know
Or regret
Later
Steps on the screen
Steps on the screen
Its everything
I’ll ever know
Or never tell you
At all