"After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music."
Aldous Huxley
Monday, February 03, 2014
I can't write what burns inside of me. When it comes out on the page I see how ugly it is....it will just have to stay where it is. Bottled up, stuffed down, simmering like a witches brew in my gut.
1 comment:
Sharing it may help. Even though this was a long time ago.
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