Catie Conte
Articles by
Catie Conte
I Look For You In Crowded Bars
You never came back. But I did.
The Further I Strayed From Who I Was, The Closer I Got To Who I’m Meant To Be
My diction has become rusty, my words no longer sophisticated and grandiose. The feeble words I have left are simplistic and raw, no longer pretentious or guarded.
The Beautiful Potential Mornings Hold
The room is dark, and the world outside is quiet.