Get back to what you know—the slow ascent and the leather snow. Silent words hidden in loud gestures and harsh rebuttals. I died tonight... still reconsidering my revival.
These realities are bitter—sizzling lies and comforting truths... the books... the books.
Perusing her mind, I read through her manuscripts, puzzled by the transcripts.
Wait—if I lose her, I lose it all.
—Menzi Buthelezi
YOU ARE READING
Listen
RandomMy misunderstood soul speaks. I write to connect with the world. This is how I communicate and share my thoughts.
