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Patriarchangel

Maybe women are weak.

Or is it just me?

I’d rather squeeze a sun through my hips and be able to sleep

than cry for years

the tears of the Unknown–

The Unfair–

The Anguish–

of the Real World.

The Man’s World.

Recent Posts

Tight seat with tight belt. Through the window there’s invisible stars. Downwards, countless lights merge into one. All the footprints ...

Steam rises gently, Her hands dance with spice and love, Home tastes warm and safe. One bite of the rich And flavorful cinnamon, ...

Through the spring window is a bright burst of new green— great times are coming. The birds are singing, they are on their schedule—...