I’ll be moving into my 37th year on Earth.
I’ve felt like I’ve been wrapped in a cocoon for most of that. If you’ve followed the blog you can probably see that I’ve wanted to burst out. I’ve been trying to bust out of this person I pretend not to be.
For it is a lot on ones soul to show the deepest parts you, but then you show much more than that when you write, when you pry the pieces of your broken heart and swear them, crush them into the lines of words.
I’ve spent too much time running for another way, any other way.
But there is only one way out.
I live in the world of my brothers last breath.
It is time for me to show you who I really am.
For this tale begins at the bottom of a bookshelf.
For the flakes that create dreams, fall there.