the ugly writers

6 Days Before Death

That night she cooed herself to sleep while snuggling under the warmth of her duvet. Like a child anyone would have said. But the woman that lay there didn’t care much for she knew her time was coming and the clock was ticking, faster than ever before.
You are not the judge of me

You Are Not The Judge Of Me

When a judgmental comment makes its way to my lips and can tell the condition of my heart is failing, I reel it back in. I reel it in. All of it. Stop myself in my tracks. Those words I am ready to share do not encourage.