oneword: tail

tale ends, tail spins, ice on the ground and a broken bottle. my blood mingles with the ice, and i am transported into a dali painting, abandoned inside a poem by robert frost. drowsy and alone. is it chemical induced isolation, or am i just sick of you all?


ghost

oneword: intricate

intricate. the pattern of our lives weaved, threaded, and spun together. even if a loose thread snags some sharp object and the momentum of our movement were to pull us undone, you will never truly be without my pattern so carefully and permanantly intertwined with your own. we would have to destroy ourselves to be free of the other.


ghost

sliver(s)

everytime you jump, you just know she's gonna catch you. leap, her arms fall to the side as you fall past and slam into the ground. you try to clean up the soul glass splinters, but like actual glass slivers you never really get them all and end up cutting your fingers on them time after time. after a while, you gather enough confidence to try again. everytime you jump, you just know she's going to catch you.

ghost

oneword: sliver

just a tiny piece. a small, narrow, slightly broken sliver of you. that's all i need to keep. all i need to keep moving. keep hoping. keep believing. place me on the back burner. use me until i'm raw and boring and you don't want me anymore. i'll still wait. i'll still hope. as long as i have that piece.