This read like survival poetry in its truest form, threaded with humour, dread, absurdity, and that strange, stubborn flicker of hope we dare to pack anyway.
The line “Death by canker sore” made me laugh out loud because, yes, that’s the spiral our minds take, and yet you’ve made it art.
Thank you for showing how we crawl and hum and joke our way through the maze.
You’ve reminded me that silly and hope belong in the same bag. 💼🖤
From another "daft discoverer" - I love that you pack your silly AND your dark humor. Thank you, Love, Virg
This read like survival poetry in its truest form, threaded with humour, dread, absurdity, and that strange, stubborn flicker of hope we dare to pack anyway.
The line “Death by canker sore” made me laugh out loud because, yes, that’s the spiral our minds take, and yet you’ve made it art.
Thank you for showing how we crawl and hum and joke our way through the maze.
You’ve reminded me that silly and hope belong in the same bag. 💼🖤
Thank you so much, Lilian. You perfectly understood my meaning, and your comment means a great deal to me. ❤️