If there are moments you’re meant to absorb, indulge and be fulfilled in. Where in our rarest, barest states we are accepted, at our most confusing and depleting we are immersive. When the soul lives outside, and the eyes are just a glass opening to the shells that we are scared to step on. We inverse our minds and breaths. That what we inhale is nothing but purified black, the black that’s not shadows but the black that’s present filling our colourless void of our world, with dashes of euphoria we explored the whole dream of a weekend.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from writers in Poets and other communities.
A Letter to the Firestarter
Dear Firestarter, We can all see you, we've been watching you since you began. In case you didn't know we were here before you and we will be here after. We witnessed your rise, your setbacks, your guilt and your lies. We witnessed you start the fire.
By Donny Foleyabout 10 hours ago in Poets
The Duelist
The rays of a dying red sun flashed against the onrushing blade. The grey beards say the key to dueling lies in size, speed, reach, righteous fury, whatever the person in front of them pays them to say. Matteo knew better than any it was none of these and had an undefeated record on these sands to prove it.
By Matthew J. Fromm5 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.