scrawls
still cheaper than therapy*


11.1.10
this blank space, this massive emptiness, this is the abyss. I fell off the edge of the world: and so i keep falling, and the naked monsters of uncharted madness reach for me. The old maps knew their way. You know, before, i didn't think it was such a sin? I feel like i am grieving someone who laughs at me from opulent pillows, but i am so much more practiced at grieving for death.

I have dreams about him, about them together, and in my dreams he turns away from me again and again and again. When i am awake the hurricane comes, and sometimes i am at the calm, and sometimes i watch the mountains crumble, and sometimes i am the mountains.

But it is January: the solstice has passed, and the next, and the next, and the next. Breathe. Be. Now. Here.

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scrawled @ 12:39






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