I walk upon what ceases to remain,
Where neither wall nor beam was spared.
I walk on broken glass of windowpanes
On a night when no one else seems to care.
I cannot tell a soul to protect my name,
This house holds with it a burden of sham…
Reflective thought is utterly addictive. The mismatched colorations of my most vivid realizations and the caviler notions of my shipwrecked self are often enough to leave me consumed. As of late, I’ve been ruminating over a particular conversation…
Imagine the anguish of pincers repeatedly tearing your cheeks apart. Imagine lying on your back and having a large man looming over you throwing a boulder at your head and the agony head being smashed into pieces. Imagine the torment of being trap…