| Internal conversation between my acoustic and me gets awkward and then I hide under my desk. | |
| Guitar: | Come play me. |
| Me: | No. |
| Guitar: | Strum and stroke me, baby. |
| Me: | No. |
| Guitar: | But my wood is so hard, baby. |
| Me: | Go away. |
| Guitar: | Write a song for me, baby. |
| Me: | No. |
| Guitar: | *STRING BREAKS* |
| Me: | *TERRIFIED LITTLE GIRL SCREAM* |
Mother. Novelist. Poet. Cooker of divine meals. Summer wine drinker. Keeper of fish and cats and books.
• About violet-words
• GoldenMuse (stories of the Muse)
• Poetry
• Featured Works
• Prose
• The Sparrow
• An Ending (poetry/prose of the divorce)
• What does a violet-words look like?
• In-Progress Series
• Ask me anything!
• Submit here! <333 ☢ Nouns and Verbs and Shit ☢
• About violet-words
• GoldenMuse (stories of the Muse)
• Poetry
• Featured Works
• Prose
• The Sparrow
• An Ending (poetry/prose of the divorce)
• What does a violet-words look like?
• In-Progress Series
• Ask me anything!
• Submit here! <333 ☢ Nouns and Verbs and Shit ☢
If I die in my sleep it'll be with a slit throat from a broken B string.
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