No, I didn't wake up today. 
I laid in bed with my eyes open, dreaming those petty, pleasurably nostalgic treasures--dreaming warm little knicks in my valves, knots in my veins, and lumps in my throat.
Dreams are cyclic, they say. Time is cyclical too, some say. It only makes sense that this snake eats its tail, day in and day out over what could've been. But worse, it gets sick on itself over w...

Read and leave comments (0)