I am locked away in her flesh, a womb of ending. She brought me forth, but not with intent. I dare not call her Mommy. Assassin is more suitable. Her eyes are bleached. I have her bleached eyes, I inherit these. I encounter the professionalism of his plastic gloves, he pulls and cuts and replies, “It is finished.”
This is a random collection of my writing. When I write, I attempt to be fair to all my readers. I accomplish this by giving them my unhindered soul. All works are copyrighted.