I've never really ventured this far into the depths of my thoughts, a bleak darkness engulfs my wandering form. My stretched out fingers scrape into the damp crevices of surrounding walls, squelching moss a gift of remembrance, in between flesh and nail.
My toes break the silence with the unpleasant snaps of worn out unknown limbs, the skeletons of all the faces I would forever forget, willingly or not.
This world of thoughts, if stretched out, would go on for miles.
My journey for a moment of happiness, pride or even comfort would go on with no care for time, leaving my physical form covered in indentations and my emotions carrying out the doings of indescribable torment.
YOU ARE READING
Constant Loss
KurzgeschichtenA series of short stories. Short stories that expose truths.
