Theres a chill in my heart, and it stings of loss and longing. I so detest a grand portion of the world in which I live, my history and inevitable future. What has dragged me to this crossroad, and, more to the point, why do I press on?
I think that it's going to get better, or perhaps I simply hope. The rain pours in under the foundations and I wait, and watch, to see if my feet will get wet. I wonder what it would be like to live inside the mind of another. Would I be happier? Would my thoughts be the same? A half smile blooms, replacing my furrowed brow, as I ponder that it could be worse still.
I feel the water rising and I close my eyes. It's cold, and my breath falters, but I know that I like it better here. Within the maelstrom, churning with fervour, dwells the boundless core of creation...the phantasm.
aching arc ashphalt Atrophy barrage biting blood boot breath cavern chemicals chill click compel crimson dead delete dire ember embolism endure falters fantasy globules gnawing hammer haunting heartbeat horrific icy idiot inspire intent kitten lips love Luscious macabre matted panicked passion powerhouse purge resonated scent seisure shatter slithered sorceress splats staggers stings strangers sucking tempting terrified thistles tortured Victorian vile vixen