jherman
her technique was perfect-- exquisite even. The way the knife glided through the flesh was seamless, quiet, beautiful. In the wake of the silent sacrifice, nothing stirred and the whole world seemed to hold its breath in anticipation as to where the knife we go next.
It's complicated is so cliche. Whenever is something not complicated in all honesty? Nothing that of which I have experienced was ever simple or splayed in splotches of overt black and white. It's always complicated and always will be. It's more fun that way anyhow.
Mountain trails. Trial mix. Robert Frost's trail. It always implies natural surroundings or a path of some sort. But there's also treasure trails-- trails to imaginative paradise.
i was delirious with guilt.hysterical. It overwhelmed me and invaded every aspect of my life. I tried to get over it-- sober myself up with heavy metal or a horror story from the Sunday newspaper. But no matter what, the damnation was felt from the inside out. I could barely breathe anymore.