You are missed.

All I feel is this strain in my chest. like a warm ball of clay is slowly forcing its way through, squeezing and squishing against my organs making them lead-like and bloated as it passes through.  I want to give birth to this dread. Rip it out still beating and burn it along with all my insecurities.

clavicola:

I crawled through the kitchen window and leapt down from the counter onto the floor. With quiet lips, I called him in. The home was a filter for light, a sift that only allowed the purest sun to shine in. It was a light that only the rich could afford to have. I had shimmied open the lock with J…