This pen begs to be treasured and trusted – to invite in ink-laden camaraderie again. Instantly forced-both-forged moments of twisted bliss and trapped with-in a thunderstorm of evaporating forgiveness. As a writer writes as only they can(‘t), it will painfully attempt to choose and confuse the brave face of these un-entitled wrongs, and to eventually bring with them – enveloped determinedly-both-detrimentally back together again – a sense of soothing, succinct sentiment

Atop that of a wildly misfiring page mischievously instilled with begotten memories of mind. Oh, but they do mind the most, don’t they, though ?

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