mizcellaneous

there's something to be said about it he walks past blue all day through blue all day he's blue all day blue lines, with bits of silver these halls have walls expanding and expanding the lies with specks dirty under feet that's how he feels and how he feels he plans to escape these halls one day blue walls expand exits disappear his eyes are blue yet tears are void his eyes are sore his soul is dry he asks for help but blue can't hear blue has no eyes it has no ears she sees him lost within the blue her nails are blue eyes dusted blue she clears the tiles and finds a door he's free from blue he misses blue

The Unwilling Storyteller so we'll burn our eyes avoiding the inevitable sleep blurs the line that aims to divide reality and imagination how do we know what's solid? the vision in the distant window...moment of clairvoyance? or delusional imagery? there are some things i can't forget.. the memories can be repressed it's the feelings that periodically resurface without warning the random flickers of the past slowly, and unwillingly...we paste them together forming a story this is just the beginning the plot develops as the characters enter the scene we sit and wait...