This is not free form poetry or monologue. It's a collection of messages I have received over the last seven years. They are anonymous and abstracted - just a collection of words in time. They remind me of growing and change.
Sunday 26 July 2009
archive 3.0
She just asked him to buy her some milk
Fuck off
I am a wreck without you. Nothing
He was a boxer, doesn’t believe in god and lost his eye in a gunfight.