I spend the first few minutes of the full moon running in mad circles. I sniff in the places where I was, looking for me.
Some part of me knows I’m not there, I’m in here. But I wince because wolves are pack animals and there’s no one there, not even me.
I wonder why I made myself so hard to find.
After a while, she began to feel as though her tongue was moving. She wasn't sure if it was just a vivid dreamed up result of the pain and the concoction of medication, but the fear and panic it instilled in her was certainly real.
The future stands like a reaper in my corner. She’s tapping on my window, a ticking I can barely hear over your screaming. Pink, like cotton candy. The past is a spectrum of beautiful colors. It beckons me. I think about it. I dye my hair red. You lose it. You ask what’s changed.
I prayed for the night to go slow. I prayed. Maybe that is what all atheists do, when they know that they are falling - but love, I am terrified of you. I am terrified of all the dawns you are yet to consume with all the pretty strangers you are yet to come across. I am afraid because you are teaching me to love.
Where there used to be something this time there was nothing. His left eye twitched in an unexpected manner as he began to incorporate this fact into his awareness. It startled him how much difference could a little bit of nothingness make. He stubbornly looked at the vase for another 20 seconds, piercing it with his dull eyes. He was waiting for a familiar sensation to come but it didn’t come.