The witch sat by her fire drinking her tea. She was a solitary creature, mostly. She rarely minded the quiet. This evening she sat…
When I die, there will be a few lines in a paper in some small town in the middle of some far off…
That part, the resilient teenagerin meunaware/ unwilling
let me existbreath… the way I used tolet me be known for the raw methe way I am…
Fight,Fight back the feelings who brought you content,Of feelings like peaceOr security.