August 18, 2025

Dear ghost,

Its when I don't write that I become completely crippled. The bottled up intensity burn my every inch. My heart echo with the voices of a dead. The thoughts hover like a dagger waiting to pierce me. I am a danger to myself and a menace consuming my life. What if the virus is me? What if it is i who needs a cure? Therefore, I must confess. Thus, I write.

Your bane