Shades drawn closed darkness blankets every corner of the room shadows become one flattened and obscure off in the distance are muted sounds a whistling tea pot hopefully someone will attend to its needs wrapped gingerly within solitary seclusion and doubt ...insecurity has become a knife held to my throat by my own hand widow's …
Trilby Yates
My words are a direct reflection of what is being played out in my mind. For artistic purpose and dramatic effect I have duct-tapped the "edit" button…
Trilby Yates 