Water | NaPoWriMo #18

as I write this, i am drinking a glass of water. why am i writing about it, you ask? well, i can’t think of what else to write. if i asked someone what to write about they’d say ‘anything that comes to mind’ and the first thing that comes to my mouth is this glassContinue reading “Water | NaPoWriMo #18”

The Painter

Photocopied trees circle me,And I feel as though I am being painted,As though a far away brush has brought us all into existence– Then a child runs too carelessly,falls on their face,And the painting is slightly torn.