Tag Archives: muse

Tired mind explores the world of mist, still seeing the beauty and letting thoughts quieten as they ignore all maps and keep walking.

The original stain a faint mark but still visible to remind you of the beginning of the end and the limbo you’re still currently trapped in.

Count the tasks and calculate the space within three days you must fit them in, bending and twisting until they click, but scream out in agony at the misshapen creation left over.

Touch grass and judge the experience by the quality, brittle and dry or vibrant and damp, pressing against your palm and deciding how the outside will be presented.

Revisit with another, glimpsing their demeanor with the familiar instead of the polite mask we are forced to wear to please and pacify.

Take me to a river and let grief consume, screaming into a rushing waterfall and choking with the dead, while my body curls into a ball of pain and anger and all engulfing loss at what they deserved but what I couldn’t deliver.

Collide with anger then feel it steam out, wondering where it hissed from to begin with.

Harbour the dead, shelter them from the world who never even knew they were meant to exist. Cling to the corpse a little longer and pretend miracles can revive the gone.

Advertising his gaze to any potential matches, selling himself with lingering looks and flicking interest with a tilt that rolls prospectives closer.