The intricacies of my insanity
where the impossible seems three shorts steps to the left, and one giant leap into insanity…
“Grandmothers stories of the Wiccan. The tree of family, and the bodies buried beneath it.” Patrick hisses in his father’s face. “Her lineage had depleted almost all of the blood, but a plan was hatched, a mirror was cast, and your line was brought back to where it truly belonged.”
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I write about Desire. Sex. Longing. Pain. Darkness. All of it.
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I am the First Eve.
where the impossible seems three shorts steps to the left, and one giant leap into insanity...
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a broken bloodline that somehow, got, reconnected back up again…
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