Tristen Stafford

I was born at witching hour. Panic filled the doctors fingers and I arrived in the world held by unsteady hands. Spiders crawled on the...

Tongue tastes of cinder and ash I wash my mouth with soap and cannot scrub hard enough- Sinful orator throws words and spit like daggers...

The sounds of traffic are soothing, The rains bring me to the ground. It’s like I have an auditory affect or something or whatever,...