Day 281 of 365
Trash master now. Is that all that is left of my brain. The subconscious swell of the waves. Now she writes despite my advice. The promiscuity of spite distracts all angsty teens. Only now is my awareness growing. That no anger is worth holding onto. Like a scalding cast iron pan.
Only patience can allow me to not be burned. The ownership is mine to have or to endlessly burn my hands.
