Out of breath

on so many different levels..a building here, a road sign, the leap in my gut as we neared that ol' flyover..conspired to steal the light in my lungs, and yank it by ways of my throat. An inch of nostalgia..a mile of regret; of what value are my words, words lost and found in the mess of papercuts and tears? Words found in the silence of a single white rose, frayed and contemplative of the seconds left..til, perhaps, the household is doomed.

Complete suffocation, on that side of the world..but I'll keep coming back, for the thrill of it all.

Curiosity doesn't kill..he just drops a little candy into the rabbit hole.
| {8:13 PM}