Lie To Me

Tell me that I’m beautiful. Stroke my cheek and tell me that my face doesn’t look ashy. That it doesn’t need some color because it has enough color. It has enough color, honey. That it doesn’t feel dead against your touch. Feel the baldness of my head now. Forget the veins that are sticking out, and imagine that you’re stroking […]

A Five-Year-Old Vs An Eight-Year-Old Mind

At five years old, you really don’t care much about anything. Not about that woman on the other side of the phone who is under the weather, lying in bed with drugs running through her veins, their effect making her drowsy so all she wants to do more than anything is to grab some shut-eye, but she will not do […]