This isn’t another story. It isn’t a poem, it isn’t a recollection of the past, it isn’t... Well, that doesn’t matter, now does it? What matters is what it is.
Here’s what it is: a series of drawings (all dated, of course) that were rough sketches during some dark times in life. I’ll let you see what you think.
12/5/13
12/6/13
12/6/13
12/8/13
12/8/13
4/19/14
4/19/14
4/25/14
11/5/15
Here’s this one again, just for you to think about. At this point in time, I was almost 16. So, as a fifteen year old, I drew this. My inner child, crying. Damn, growing up sucks.