One person's trash is another person's treasure... and that's ok.
I've written novels and stories because I need to and want to. But lately, I feel like I'm defending my humanity as much as my craft.
NPC
Lurking in a darkened doorway
The Villian
stands guard over the shadows
that live beyond the threshold
He lets their tendrils leak
through the cracks
when I'm not paying attention
to this battle
with my own will
Writer. Pastor. Poet.
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