

Untitled IX "Floaters or something, right?" That has to be it, those tiny little pieces of loose cells that dizzy and blind, detected by light and probing tools far too close to the viscociously filled organs of sight. I just won't open my eyes again. It's just paranoia, the feet that go by with attached appendages appearing and dissolving as they form.Untitled IX by ~TheMorganScore
The cool draft of the open windows calls me to sleep as colors manifest underneath living shades. The pacing starts again, a man's heavy feet come from far and near. His boots, they stop at the sofa where I lay. Coldness like running water rolls down my cheeks from the bridge of my nose as deafening,