While thoughts of wheels arriving on my scene carrying precious things, I smell vanilla and it changes every thought of what that will mean. Like a bridge in Winter Spring, slippery.

She’s screaming from the far side “Let me in, I’m not as horrible as I seem. I will not eat you and spit you out alive!” Trust the sweet, dark voice that calls to me, I will…recognize, receive.

By Empirical Earth Angel

I came into this world with a fiery disposition, headstrong, only to be stifled by unconscious generational traumas. Now I am here, my fire has returned and I'm trying to live a dream like life, the life that's been waiting on me for years...won't you walk with me...

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