Literature
Phobic Desires
The cold empty was swirling within vacancy. Vastness stretched before tormented eyes and beneath the surface of a barren wasteland.
Powder-ice blankets a frozen ocean, and although it's simply a snowy sealant, I can feel what this frigidness conceals.
and I was breaking my fingers, trying to prevent this from breaking me
He always had wax eyes and a stone heart. There was feeling blazing behind those waterfall eyes, and I knew it, even when your pulsing stone could not.
He spoke of gravel in his veins, a constant ache peeling his arteries. He looked up from barbed-wire eyelashes and through his concrete freckles, he said "I don't hav