identities
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What am I?
Not even who, but what am I, the boy asked looking at the floor, his eyes flat with nothingness. What had happened here, would stay with him till the end of that day. And when it spilled it was like lava, every word singed our ears. There had been self abuse and total lack of Continue reading
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When an answer questions you
Identities baffle me: sometimes I’m an eagle, floored. Sometimes I’m not a bird at all, but the questions and answers don’t really change, not from the beginning of life. That’s kind of the one thing that never changes. Read more….. Continue reading
