There is simply too much of everything. What do I want more than a way out? A way out is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It won't be long now; they'll ask you to do it all over again. You're smothering me. You push from the inside. You have to run away. You have to swim out of yourself. You have to crawl out of your lungs, it's too crowded in here. Divulge me. Break me. Unchain me. Leave me. Crack me open. Cauterize me. Forsake me. Where do I go now? Get up

When the night is young and the stars are high a She-wolf leaves Her den as Her hunting hour draws nigh She howls at the moon so beautiful and vain Her scream only marking the beginning of Her reign She's on the prowl the hunt is on with Her claws sharpened for the flesh She preys upon nimble and graceful She slowly draws near your mind is wailing She can smell your fear She's in for the kill and you are Her prey the dinner is served She'll enjoy the buff

If once more I am told to begin from within From myself, from the inside, from the innermost And to stop looking out I will, I will stop, I will look at you, And begin to run in circles Knowing that the finish line is nothing But the line where you yelled I must begin my race In the first place: The inside is a part I do not know Nor do I wish to know it – I don’t think, at least. Photo: Lauren Peng / Unsplash One more exclamation of “You must embark” And I wil

It’s Christmas, and in a small street in a small town, a loud noise, a product of many voices singing alongside each other without any harmony, interrupts the silence that falls on the street. The people singing are the local priest, Jacob, his wife Mary and their 15 or so children. They visit each and every family in the street and sing them a Christmas carol, wishing them good luck and Merry Christmas as they leave. Most people just go along with the entire thing, not wanti