Comments about Donovan Magill
It's three am, It should be four.
Standing on my dark street illuminated by nothing but
a street light in the fog.
Nothing is as it seems.
The only constants that remain are that i am who i am.
Nothing else. Nothing more. One tiny speck in the world squandering my existance.
An empty stomach, a heavy heart, and a full mind corrupted by the thoughts of what could have been.
Rather than what is at hand, in heart, and in mind.
The swelling waves of pain creep slowly from the bottom of my abdomen moving ever fast,
Like the coming waves of ...