sprawlingink

sprawlingink

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She gazed forlornly out the window, the cobwebs trailing from her fingers as she traced patterns in the glass. Her sigh frosted the window over again and she closed her eyes against the sunlight streaming in.

The great lure of the horizon stretched before her, out beyond the fingertips of her grasping imagination, Yearning for a greater distance than her mind could compass

study

The walls of the study began to close in on her. Books sagging from their shelves and threatening to drown her in a colossus of knowledge. If she had any say she supposed that it seemed a fitting way to go. But then that's a common occurrence nowadays--to be killed by the thing we love most.

wall

There is a wall around my heart That has no end and has no start Of greyish, haunting marble stone It stands there weary and alone

stir

I could stir my brain with a stick. The insides sticking, coagulating, congealing. The gray matter reflecting the gray world that holds me captive.

The compact glint of a thousand lives decimated instantly in the blink of an eye What from these ashes can ever grow? Will hope spring from where sorrow sows?

spa

I think I have some Jung on the brain yearning for word association until spa becomes spar becomes battle becomes victory becomes life becomes death and all the circles in between

I cling to this sunshine that wraps around my arms pulling my skyward and smoothing me with hope instilling the belief that I can go on for now

I cling to this sunshine that wraps around my arms pulling my skyward and smoothing me with hope instilling the belief that I can go for now

maze

I stumbled through the maze the walls of leaf and vine and wondered if I would my destiny soon find I came to fear the middle though branches I did rend for there was the ever-growing fear that there I'd meet my end

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writing since 2010 · 169 entries · 156 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means SprawlingInk showed up.

8longest streak

156days written

0.2entries / week

on this day 15 years ago

SprawlingInk wrote about pouch
“He reached into his pouch a bag of magic tricks still moving shadows crouch their target still to fix And though my view he often bars this once he let me pry to see how he pulled out the stars…”

the words SprawlingInk reaches for

heartedgeherselfwordsagainstmindeyeshandsnowhopewallssatbreathbodywholefinally