Tag: Inner Child
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The Singularity
The man pulls a small stool next to the bed. It wasn’t there before, the stool. At least he didn’t notice it.
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The Beetle In My Box
Sometimes I feel more alone than alone. Because no matter who is around The beetle in the box is suffocating. So I open my head to let him breathe.
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The Sin Eater
That poor little sin eater in a darkened room fed artificial light and filtered half-truths and lies he gets to eat the broken fragmented shredded bits of strategically weaponized semantic psycho subliminal Sub-liminal he eats in the liminal space feeding and digesting so you don’t have to taste the indigestion.