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frozenMy "home" is a very cold place, it is slowly freezing my ability to write.frozen
each new shiver shakes another word out of me. now I am left with no muse, and no reason to write. I am left with the option of cracking open my icy veins, in hope of finding some evidence that I am still truly alive,
and not just dreaming in my grave.
by ~ghostbleedswords
color blind: prologue Clouds twist and turn, flying right on by oh so high. the clouds contract and attract each other, making pictures. pictures of color, pictures of stars, pictures of an old women who always cries, and pictures of old rusty cars. I watch these clouds paint there Picassos, making shapes of so called lookalikes. I watch those night clouds before i fall asleep. then I dream of those lookalikes and all of their needs. their need to be something, their need to be noticed.color blind: prologue
In my dreams I cling to my color tainted clouds, holding on for dear life, in
by ~ghostbleedswords
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