Rosella Weigand

The classroom door slams open with the rough tumble of edge only brought upon by teenage girls. It lets in a drafty winter breeze, which...

Their darling souls, He does not take For it is only their hearts He wishes to save And so at night While they lay asleep, He reaches...

attrition   seventeen lacerations on your tongue  and the bruise on your achille’s heel.  it bubbles in the corner of your mouth,...