Tag Archives: muse

22:55 Ripples I create dancing ahead of me, marking my path to glide through or flounder in.

22:54 A day of luxury to mark a celebration where a life-altering event happened to someone else.

22:53 A prison without walls is unique and inescapable. You’re trapped but moveable, each day that slips by your reflection becomes a stranger. Limbs grow hard to move, a foreign object you’re forgetting how to operate. Soon words become senseless noise and communication impossible. Eyes gaze out at a world they can’t enjoy, from aContinue reading “22:53”

22:52 Absent offering is felt more than a physical presence. Its heavy atmosphere settles in the air and accompanies you through the day, through everything.

22:48 Twitching nose of disapproval, narrowed eyes of judgement. Ruffled fur of irritation and puffy tail of fury. Feed me, human, feed me.

22:47 Picture perfect never were a fact that all can concur, turn your head and gaze at her unable to resist the lure of death.

22:46 Eat away the rotten, feast on decay and pain. Reveal what lies underneath; the end, or perhaps, surviving flesh to thrive.

22:45 Yes, I understand, but understand this: It still hurts.

22:44 Posture posed in perfect delusion, ready to reflect the chosen scene. Too long is spent arranging limbs in natural positions, hoping one will admire the person who possesses them. Come caress them. Make them real.

22:43 The rock vibrates beside me, barely noticeable, barely real, but heightened senses see the signs, having expected it for far too long to miss the beginning of a crack.