As i go around the zombies – too messed up from her potions to think. Theyre pulling ideas out in a frozen mind, unaware im walking past, no thought train to conduct. Theyre not aware, of what they should do. As i move towards the housing complex, i see the witch staring at me, her dead gaze, cutting through.
As i remember the good times, seperating the potions that i conjured. I remember, thinking to myself, she looks so beautiful… i think too myself, while walking up the stairs. Is something wrong? Is she really trapped within, which is which – im starting to lose my memory of everything we did, talked about…
reality feels like its slipping. The area, seems fogged, hard to walk forwards, light shines from within the eyes, stars are present. The thinking slower…
The stairs are of metal, chilly, in these shoes… ice hanging from the small apartment-like unit windows. Frost consuming the floors. I walk upwards, during this large staircase… slippery to the feet. As i try to keep gripping and move up, i can hear the laughing from above, growing with strength.
I finally get to the top, shes standing infront. the 80’s wall paper – looks terrible… to the front as i look, she begins to project an image, of 4… they create a vortex, using her chilly breath – i cant tell which is which….
Searching for meaning in the darkness. Everywhere i look, feels hopeless; I continue to search but there isn’t a light to be found, drips land from the eyes, but nobody hears the splash – lacking concern. Can i be found? Will they appear. Or is this an endless tunnel of once was. Old experiences, become fond memories. In doubt and continuing, my legs feel heavy, what i was once dreamt is of no-more – togetherness. Searching the piped-land. I’ve considered the white rock, if anything, it will bring me closer to God. Is that what i want? in this tunnel of once was?
Imaginary distance keeps us apart; feeling so genuine – You’re running thru my mind; never getting anywhere, my hearts being pulled along; the length remains; but you’ve managed to further the separateness – My senses notice you’re ‘round – I hope my heart will forget – You’ve mentally travelled far-and-wide, climbed to the vastness of the peak of my emotional wellness and hindered everything i once projected, the picture was love; i feel defeat.
My feeling’s created a vortex – They shall bring her towards; Her’s deflect my circular storm. The wind shoots towards immensely.
Knocking me down – She comes forward wearing an (unknown) mask, wielding a freshly sharpened knife – The days have passed, the blade remained, the mask knew many roles, the knife has taken many foes – The darkness is overpowering
The weaponry, becomes dull as she progresses her stabs locating my heart – the vortex lessens in size.
She smiles, the beauty of her smile, catches me off guard – my feeling’s ‘sharpen’ – They take ahold – strengthen…. ascend – The vortex grow’s dangerously large;
The powerful air becomes unstable, It fluctuates – tilts rapidly, back-and-forth – bringing forth the other, consuming her; the blade – bounced off my heavily guarded heart, the blade bent…. I wake up, and realize i’ve been walking once more in my sleep – Feeling’s still needing release, to pick her up, and wrap my arms around.
Alcohol pours into my mouth, my mouth capturing the stream with great ease. never missing my soaked mouth. Precisely, and quickly becoming intoxicated. My numbness strengthens, my thoughts cease.
My heart maintaining great rhythm. I ascend into a pleasurable state-of-mind. My emotions feel to drop heavy into my mind, creating a warmth of feelings; they magically surround my body and create an aura of happiness… My eurpohia buzz being complete – But completeness often doesn’t last, i’ll be bringing the dirty shirt i possess, for another liquified dream-state…
A hallow log that has been forgotten, the grass grows around and it slowly disappears beneath, It slowly forgets what it’s like to held, admired for it’s internal beauty of rings, it’s age is meaningless, because it’s rottening away becoming a memory in ones mind, the picture within slowly crumpling, getting filthy and it’ll become a historic piece that was never remembered – because i feel meaningless. Around the log, grows flowers… alike the flower, the woman i once knew, grew as one, strong and vibrant, magical. Living like a dream within ones mind, her picture stays strong, and well thought about… the soil combined their relationship, but it was not enough, and one day the flower detached from it’s circular platform, and took flight in the wind.