Hey,
It lingers down, residing in corners of my library unnamed but not yet forgotten. Perhaps they are the very nooks that I find myself wandering off to--my ultimate solace. Dusted, battered and bruised yet heart-warming; It is as if beasts of my territory come blessed with a heavenly beauty.
Heavy sadness it is, curling against my toes. Omniscient as it is, it wraps every fabric of my being, a form of satisfaction that it leaves. I hug it closer, leaning into its warmth as I feel the coldness leave my body. Unnamed, unwritten, unsung beauties. . . they whisper words so blissful, they keep me oblivious of what storms brew up near my feet.
Unnamed but never to be forgotten, this heaviness keeps me tucked away. It's a library where I let my monsters loose. To the world they may be insanities and monstrosities that would probably burn me down to the last bit, but how do I tell them. . . that they are the only ones who make me feel more human-- that they are the ones who'd be there for me forever and always.
YOU ARE READING
The Demon's Diary
RandomShe played with the pen in her hands, She stole the skeletons from her closet And buried them Deep into the depth of this paper. . . Her monsters, The demons which ones raged inside the chambers of her heart.
