simplyabbey
the projection of sound, the projection of thought, what do we need to say that must be spoken so loudly. What thoughts do we have that cannot be spoken quietly, in whispered voices, or even at inside level. Do we need to project our thoughts because others won't listen. . because they refuse to hear?
Placement, velocity, motion, all shaping and spilling. Things being thrown, gentle notches being made in stoic trees. Let's rotate together, spin spin, blood begins to pour, scrapes are made, we fall to the floor, curaga. . .let's all spin again, the sticks can be our starting point.
Aaaah, such a sweet release, such momentary pleasure. Then. .wait, the need has come again? It's only be 5 fucking minutes,. ..why are you here again, why do i need you, every trigger makes a response, the need for nicotine, what if i learn to control my thoughts on my own, would I even need you?
We must preen and prance. Our hems are perfectly sewn, they twirl against are hips, our corsets make our breasts stand out. We must attract the highest bidder, we must live to our fullest expectations. Bow, prance, courtesy, live the life that was planned for them.
Grim faces caked in blood, the crust is oozing and causing them all to fall into pits of tar. The ones already engrossed reach up to the living, not to save themselves but to drag others down, their claws take away patches of skin and the tears do little to cleanse the wounds
The plastic tasted hard against her lips, though it reminded her of something smooth. The ability to suck as liquid was drawn from the recesses of the cup excited her. The glass suddenly felt cool to the touch, everything begin to feel. . electric
writing since 2011 · 7 entries · 7 days shown up
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the words Abbey reaches for
bloodthoughtsspinroomfloorcakedskinagainstfallotherspranceliveprojectionspokenkilledhotel