the purple sheets, ashed and burned in places,
cast an easy firmament in cool contrast to my surrounds,
the low hum of fluorescent lighting nags at my ears,
a mild irritation - an afterthought,
in a plethora of predicaments, i peer precariously through a windowpane,
suddenly -
an audible melancholy pours over me,
it blares;
my eyes pass to these things i once adored,
and i stare her down, and i feel no remorse.
Comments
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You Did not read the rules.
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a deer print in the ice
Good write; reminds me of Mad Max's Healer (Mut); started calling my beloved Babes (a chow mix) Mut recently; as she will not respond to much; still I respect her Muttyness; will be a good friend to have on a dark day; as it looks like you agree through this writing; sorry for rambling but good, real good write.
Jesse
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lmao
this left me feeling somewhat disjointed
as if it were a few different approaches stitched together
though I suppose that is the intent in conveyance
PS. after knowing the backstory I find it hard not to laugh out loud
audible melancholy indeed!
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