On it rumbles…
I feel like I’m really getting behind this concept. I wanted to draw on something that would be so far from my creative spectrum as possible. I’m working in fiction what if. Maybe this is the inner depth of my minds self preservation. Which generally makes me pretty boring. I’m still thinking what official direction this going
A sunny day cut short,
Morning due evaporates in your skin,
Tingle to the right
Nothing to the left
A hill could be a mountain
Voice cracks, your mouth a new shara
Your last Breath
ALAN WHITFIELD 