Death would almost be a pleasure, would it not. I couldn’t envision you becoming more than what I thought you were before then. The curtains fell down, on top of your head like an invasion of moths beyond the storm. They crushed your soul swing, it took a breath with a blaze on the inside winds. It wouldn’t bring you happiness, you’d find a relentlessness outside the doorway of passion. I’m in a prison, in my mind’s eye I can feel it all caving in on itself. It’s like a blade cutting through the skin, fierce a ferocious like a lion caged within. I can’t escape this even if I wanted to, so I’ll just use it as ammunition against you.
Creator And Contributor- Chris Ballenger
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