the blue and the solace

s p i r a l.

I've been aware of this recurring sound. It rings to me, in high pitches, the melody of death. I could be seated on the hard marble of my house, blinking faintly at the clock that ticks me into insanity and I would hear it, the slow, scathing sound that pulls me, yet again, into a spiral I've fallen into a million times. And I get myself out, with the same passion that wrecks me, each time.