So many in draft, covering up so much, offering a free space where none exists.   The hurt is clear, the way forward not, bringing tons to surface, where nobody should exist.   So much ‘I don’t know’, ripping out a heart, in this free world, where love should exist.


Campaigning for your time is really difficult. I am not equipped for this, I know not what the term limits or expense guidelines are. I reach for you only to have my hand slapped away, and reeling in hurt and confusion,