Stumbling around, there's so much noise. I can't hear anything but the buzzing in my head. So many doors are locked and I must see them. And there is one who lives among them. Only they can release the monsters and ghosts inside. They are a ghost themselves, and they remind me of pain. How … Continue reading
The rest is but a dream.
After all, the purpose of dirt is to feed the worms.
You’re alive and I’m rotting slowly
I know I'm odd.
The shadows pass the clock to and fro, and my fingers twitch as they search for the key. The key to rewind time.
The empty Victorian sofa is ominous in the gray light fading into the tea room.
We watch them drown while throwing hearts into the ocean.
The cold. I had lost something out there in the cold so long ago, and I feared I would never get it back. It’s out there. In the snow.