Sanders Bohlke – Bring Your Weary Soul To The Alter
Some nights she just wanted to sleep. She sat at her desk, slumped over the keyboard, feeling her eyes grow weary with bags drooping across her cheeks, her expression sinking with every minute. But there wasn’t enough in her bones to slide into bed and drown in the sheets. So her bones ached and stung with the pain of sleeplessness, like minuscule daggers pinpricking her pores right down to the marrow and the walls blurred into a drowsy swirl of pastel paints and moths led astray by the lone light shining in her moss-ridden apartment ceiling. [Buy.]