24

351 15 2
                                    

she stares blankly at an empty page willing herself to bleed ink onto paper
but the words don't come and so her eyes glaze over, blurring the world
displaying iridescence in the purest of forms

the voices in her head speak clearer now, in more understandable tones
as though her sight was useless but a lack of it significant to the interpretation of
the brewing storm in her mind

half past moonWhere stories live. Discover now